Desunt Cetera
by SalvaVeritate
Summary: Time moves and stands still. Tick. Stop. Tock. Pause. There is nothing to ponder, nothing to analyze and dissect systematically the way I would do when I tried to read people. There is nothing to read. Sebastian isn’t composed of words.
1. Primus

**Nope, they're still not mine. Still Roger Kumble's. **

* * *

**Part One **

_Here I'm pinned between darkness and light _

_Bleached and blinded by these nights _

_Where I'm tossing and tortured till dawn _

_I view visions of you, then you're gone _

_The shock bleeds the red from my face _

_When I hear someone has taken my place _

_How could love be so thoughtless, so cruel? _

_When all, all that I did was for you _

-From Autumn to Ashes

I am not a goddamn child.

Blaine's watching me out of the corner of his eye like he's expecting me to do something crazy. In fact, the queer looked about ready to restrain me should I suddenly jump up from bed and go over the balcony. He thinks I don't notice it, but I do. His lame 'I was just around the neighborhood and thought you'd like to try that new drug' reason for arriving at my doorstep is about as transparent as plastic.

Hmm. There's that word. Plastic. Cheaply made, hard, and empty on the inside.

I glance at the clock, its steady ticking a cruel taunt and proof of the hours that have signified the lapse of the time my stepbrother has been hanging by a thread while he struggled to stay alive. Blaine catches the shift in my stare but he doesn't say anything. He continues puffing on his cigarette but even then I can sense the concern.

"He's going to be okay, Kathryn." He talks quietly. The plain sight of the blue pills he'd wanted me to try earlier remains unnoticed on the table.

"I don't care about it. I'm just concerned what he's told that blonde twit."

Liar, liar. Don't lie, Kathryn. It's bad for one's health.

"I've called the hospital and I spoke with Annette, he's… He's undergoing surgery right now but he should be alright, the doctors told her that he has a chance…"

I pause. I tilt my neck from where I'd been lying down on my bed to glance at him.

"I said I didn't care, Blaine."

The clock continues its ticking and Blaine stays for a few more hours. Once or twice he'd attempt to console me, but I would brush him off. I didn't care. I didn't give a damn at all. Maybe Sebastian's dead to me. Maybe he was dead to me the moment the word _love_ escaped his mouth and on to Annette.

Nighttime falls. The phone stays silent. My entire room is engulfed in darkness save for the miniscule moonlight that passed through the windows. Everything is as still as a graveyard.

I open my eyes. I blink. It's still dark. The last word lingers in my mind like a nasty aftertaste.

Graveyard. I shouldn't have said that. Fuck. I shouldn't have…

The outline of the phone is clear in the dark as soon as my eyes grow accustomed to it. I loathe its silence not because I was concerned, but because I knew that the little bitch wouldn't even call to inform me whether or not the pussywhipped hero of the day made it or not. She hates me. She's read that fucking journal. She knows about me and will most likely have some sort of pathetic revenge scheme plotted to avenge her and her stupid boyfriend.

Should I be worried? Perturbed?

No. I can bury her alive if I wanted to. Besides, what can she do? Can she drag me and cast dirt on my good name and upstanding reputation? No. She can't. I'm Kathryn Merteuil and I'm bigger than life itself. It'll take more than that to hurt me.

Sleep has lost its appeal. I feel restless, but I don't know what to do. Isn't that odd? I've always known what to do. It's why I've become this successful; I always had a backup plan for every little thing. I've always had things go my way.

But this time it doesn't. The silence is my companion but it will never be my friend. Our parents have been contacted and they're due to return tomorrow. His fornicating father and my blasé frigid mother. I cringe. Tomorrow morning we'll go to the hospital to see him, the paradigm of the perfect family in times of turmoil.

The cab driver feels horrible. I saw him earlier when I was at the hospital, impressing people because of my distraught look at the state of my stepbrother. No. I called him my brother. My voice had shaken and there were hints of tears in my eyes. Perfect. They all felt sorry for me. They have no idea I was the instigator of all the chaos that Sebastian, Annette, Ronald, Cecile, and probably the cab driver have been facing. Annette had given me a death glare, which I did not shy away from. In fact, if I wasn't supposed to be distressed, I would have laughed out loud. It isn't that the hateful ice embedded in her blue eyes wouldn't have threatened any other person. It just didn't threaten _me_. Very few people did. Very few people can get under my skin.

I wanted to slap the fuckwit for stepping on the brakes too late. Sometimes I wish he'd never stopped at all.

I turn on my side and wrap an arm around a thick pillow, placing my cheek to feel the silk covering.

Most of all, I wish he had never been there. Not the driver. Sebastian. If he hadn't been there this would have never happened. If he'd been in my bed fucking me to oblivion, he wouldn't be lying down with a machine helping him breathe. His leg wouldn't be fractured and he wouldn't be asleep in an uncomfortable hospital bed.

But it isn't my fault. Nothing ever is. It's his fault. His fault for even reading that magazine article in the first place. How the fuck did he even his get hands on a copy? He read Tolstoy for fuck's sake! I mean, Sebastian Valmont and Seventeen magazine. Christ. If it didn't actually happen I would have asked you to go fuck yourself for even putting that laughable and ludicrous notion in my head.

Granted, Annette _is_ marginally pretty. If you're into that whole uptight blonde thing, which apparently my stepbrother is. I don't get it. He's in love with _me_ and I'm all the things that virgin will never be. How can he go after her instead of pursuing me? Had he finally grown tired? But he'll never tire of me. He said that once, when he was drunk and I was trying my best not to kick him because he had turned into a blithering idiot. He told me I was his girl and that he'd wait for as long as he possibly can.

But then again, Valmont is like me. We both have a patience that's as long as an eyelash… Or like Court Reynolds' peewee dick.

I can't help it. I smile. A real smile the makes the corners of my mouth turn up slightly. Thankfully the physical weariness comes over me and finally, I allow myself to succumb to sleep.

---

The morning comes and I am up at promptly seven am. My body is wired like that. Even when I've had a long night of drinking and doing God knew what with God knew who, I'd still be up early. Our parents are arriving in an hour.

I hurry to the bathroom and fix myself up. Mother's coming.

---

She watches me critically while my stepfather remains silent and stoic. This is why I hate having them around. I feel tense and awkward in front of my mother, as though I was still in my early years of her snapping at me and telling me to sit up straight. Sometimes I think she would have had steel implants in my spinal cord if it had been possible. She never tolerated any form of slouching. She never tolerated anything at all.

Which is why she's out of the country most of the time. I think a part of her knows what I've really been doing. I think a part of her knows that I've slept around. She'd rather be ignorant of my activities. It's fine by me, I've pretty much hated her ever since I could think for myself. Once, she caught me looking at Sebastian after he'd stepped out from the pool. She'd taken my wrist and told me something nice about the weather in front of all her friends, but her hand remained cold and her nails left impressions on my skin.

I smiled and secretly winced, excusing myself. I ran into Valmont and he noticed my hand. He had this smile like he knew it was his fault and I had rolled my eyes and told him to go fuck himself.

We were fifteen then. He grabbed my hips and started kissing me, it took me about five seconds of kissing him back with equal hunger before rationality got the best of me and I slapped him. He caught my hand and his gaze burned into mine.

Sometimes I think he loved me even before our parents got married. That kind of untold passion lingering in his gaze told me that.

I felt his lips on the nail marks and he disappeared before I could say anything.

"What happened, Kathryn?" she talks to me like she is talking to a stranger. But then again, she probably is.

"He was having a fist fight with Ronald Clifford and Annette Hargrove came to break it up, but… She was accidentally shoved into the street… He…"

These words will taste bitter in my mouth. I keep trying to refrain from saying it but I know that this is Mother and that I have to say it because she is the one asking me questions and if it's her, I must always answer.

"Sebastian saved her."

My stepfather looks from the window and our eyes meet. He looks like an older version of Sebastian, only with dark, graying hair. Once I told Sebastian I caught his father checking me out while I was getting a tan and then continued on that it actually wouldn't be bad fucking him because Edward really is good looking for someone his age. Sebastian had this hurt look on his face and he spent the rest of the day ignoring me.

Later on, Blaine told me that when Sebastian had been fourteen, he had a seventeen year old girlfriend whom he _almost_ loved only to find his father diddling the little whore in his room. For reasons incomprehensible to me, I found Valmont later on and told him that I saw Edward fucking my mother and that I almost threw up. I also told him I realized that because of that sight, I was permanently scarred and would never even think of fucking the old man.

He'd shrugged it off and made a dry, amused comment about it but I can tell something changed. He talked to me again after that. I still think Edward's handsome, but in reality I would never even think of fucking him. Too many complications. Besides, secretly lusting over one family member is enough.

Alright, so I'm decent enough to admit it. It doesn't make me weak, does it? I mean, who hasn't lusted over him at one point? Though I'd never admit it to his face, the boy's too good looking for his own good.

Edward frowns slightly and his blue eyes probe into mine, oddly the way Sebastian's would every time he wanted something from me.

"Saved her." He repeats this like he is doubtful. I had been doubtful too.

"Yes." I nearly run out of the limo as soon as it arrives at the hospital. Annette and her father are both waiting for us. Pleasantries are exchanged. Annette painfully manages a hello for me but I ignore her. Her face falls and then turns stony. Bitch. I didn't care if her entire fucking face fell off. It had been loathe at that first glance of the magazine article for me.

"How is he?" My mother's talking to Annette and I can tell that she doesn't like the virgin either. There is that disapproving tone Mother reserves for people she thinks is common and undeserving of her attention but absolutely has no choice but to talk to.

"… He's…"

I don't hear her. I don't hear any of them because I don't care for all their bullshit. Tell me, God. Have you made me an unlikely murderer?

I walk quickly and I know that Annette wants to stop me but realizes that she can't. Despite my involvement in this, I am still his sister. She can't do a goddamn thing to stop me. Like I said, I can bury her alive if I wanted to.

I open the door and find him asleep, looking pale and unlike him at all. His lips are dry and peeling. He has a bandage wrapped around his head and there is a spot of blood seeping through the gauze.

I knew he wouldn't die. I _knew_ it.

I sit down on the chair where Annette had sat and just look at him. I don't take his hand or anything because… Well, because I couldn't.

Okay, so he still is handsome as hell. I don't know what they've done to fix him, but I'm glad that they have. It's such a shame for that face to cease to stop existing.

His eyes open and I feel my heart inadvertently jump. As he blinks quietly for a while, I am reminded of a newborn that is seeing everything for the first time.

"Welcome back." I speak first. I wish I could say that to him in a different context.

He turns his neck and our eyes meet. A long time ago, I would have seen fondness and lust, but now it's blank.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Come to kill me, have you? The driver didn't succeed so I'm sure you're here to finish what you started."

"Oh, come on, Sebastian. Aren't you overreacting a bit?"

"Overreacting?" his voice starts getting louder. The machine monitoring his heart picks up as his anger fills him up. "I got run over, you manipulative whore!"

Beepbeepbeepbeep. He's going to have a heart attack soon if he doesn't stop.

But I'm not one to appease.

"Well, you're alive aren't you? Stop whining and don't be a fag, for crying out loud. You do know it's your fault, right? Nobody ever told you to go have a fist fight out on the street."

His mouth opens and closes. His eyes are filled with hatred and I feel a chill. I want him to roll his eyes and respond with an amused comment like he always did.

Then something happens.

He just has this _look_. Like he was a child who got disappointed upon realizing the Santa Claus didn't exist. He looks disappointed and hurt that I _almost_ apologized.

"Leave me alone, Kathryn." He finally says quietly, turning away from me. "It's over."

"No, it's not. Your bitch girlfriend's probably planning to take me down and I have every intention of getting my hands on that journal." I reply. Something feels very strange to me at that point. Like I'm watching another tragic accident unfold and I can't do a single thing to stop it.

"I should help her, you know."

"Are you going to?"

I ask this because I need to know. If he is, then I'll have to hurt him too.

He still looks at me like he's sad about something. Like he's reading my thoughts and knows that I'm willing to inflict further pain. Maybe he's sad about me. Maybe I'm like Santa Claus, maybe I'm like a myth he's built up in his head only to realize the ugly, gory truth that I'm not as perfect as he thinks.

"I'd like to," he whispers. "But I can't. I can't do that to you. I respect you and I loved you very much, but it's over. Annette's not going to do anything to hurt your precious reputation but _we're_ over, Kathryn. Please don't ever talk to me again."

He closes his eyes and he sleeps. I stay for a few outraged minutes, wondering whether or not I should shake him or do something to make him react. But there's nothing. No idea. No evil and cruel thing to do. Nothing else but to leave.

So I do.

I leave the hospital in a daze. Blaine picks me up a few blocks from the hospital and is surprised to see that I _walked_. I lean against the headrest of his car and we don't speak for the rest of the way home.

Words have lost its appeal as well.

* * *

A/N: This isn't a one shot but it won't be very long either. I just realized I didn't have a fic from Kathryn's point of view and well, you know me. I don't like having limitations. ;-) Woohoo I'm on a roll! Okay, so I'm sleepy. I'm getting my Christmas gift tomorrow so I felt terribly inspired to share the love. But sorry, just one person because I have no way of replying back to her unlike with Katie and B and Celeste. ;-) So if she's reading this: 

a reader: Yes, I am a bad author for doing this with Christmas coming up but I realized I've always had happy endings for them. I didn't want to be predictable. ;-) Anyway, I'm glad you liked it despite the sad ending and I wanted to thank you for revieiwing my other stories as well. Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Merry Christmas!


	2. Secundus

_The shallow waters that you come upon, show how empty your life truly is _

_You look into the vast nothingness to see something that is not there _

_You try to discern where to go from here _

-From Autumn to Ashes

Let me tell you how I'm spending my afternoon:

"Oh, fuck do it harder fuckfuckfuckfuck…"

Yes. Exactly. That last word. Fuck.

Now, one would think that I would have spent my days in defeated silence while I thought of ways to get my confidante back ever since that falling out, but as you can very well see—

"Jesus, baby! You're fucking hot…"

Yes, yes I am. There is a tingling feeling in my inner thighs and a currently insatiable thirst blooming in my stomach as I feel my boyfriend's tongue in me and well… I can spare you the details. I'm not like my stepbrother, who always liked to fuck and tell. No. I tell stories the way I seduce men, which is give very little but enticing detail that will make their minds go into overdrive until they beg me for more. So if you're looking for something along the lines of descriptive paragraphs and the like, you might get somewhat disappointed. If you've spoken to Sebastian and he's actually confided in you (in which case, who the fuck are you? He never confided with anybody else except Blaine and me), you'll see the immense difference between us two. Personally I admit that he might be the better storyteller between the two of us, which is why he kept that faggot journal while I remained wary and distrustful of written confessions. I loathe them. They can be very dangerous when read by the wrong person.

… Which is exactly what that Hargrove bitch did. Okay, so… Wait… Oh, fuck hold on…

I claw at his broad back while he slams into me roughly; the feeling of him being inside of me slipping back and forth makes me lose my thoughts momentarily. As I feel that impending release coming, my hips rise up to meet his and it doesn't take long. With a few loud grunts, he comes inside of me and I follow thereafter with a loud shout that probably did not remain unnoticed by the occupant of the other room. Good. Let Sebastian hear what he's missing. Christ. They're probably cuddling and knitting a sweater or something.

"Oh, God Kathryn… That was great." My boyfriend's voice makes me blink and I give him a tired smile as his lips move to kiss my neck.

"Mhmm… Well, you have to go now. I have to go meet Blaine in a few minutes and I have to get ready."

Like every other wealthy, self absorbed man I've dated, Adrian Vanderbilt II immediately turns jealous at the sound of another man's name escaping my lips. I don't know why the fuck he's so possessive. It's not like I even say a word when he's out fucking some other bimbo. My rule was simple: If you're mine, I really don't give a fuck about you. You can diddle whomever you please, wherever you please but you must make it discreet otherwise it will blatantly show that you're disrespecting me and we can't have that, can we? I was the perfect girlfriend, perfect arm (and eye) candy. I am not clingy, nor am I like one of those idealistic fools who thinks she's the next Mrs. (fill in an influential surname here). I don't spend hours daydreaming of Adrian's eyes and I would die before I even doodled his name at the back of my notebook and enclose it with little hearts.

I seldom cheat on whoever I'm seeing. You might find that surprising, but then again, I really don't commit to anybody so I suppose whenever I sleep with someone else I don't constitute that as cheating. I am alone in that manner, beautiful, and uncontrollable. I don't see the need for being someone's property. I allow them the illusion of having me, but they don't really. I can and will turn on them the moment I see fit. It's happened before and they know it. Because of this, they know better than to treat me the way they would treat pathetic girls like, say… _Cecile_.

"Kathryn?"

His voice makes me lose my thoughts and I make up for the lack of attention with another charming smile as I grab my bathrobe to wrap around my naked body. His brown eyes follow the swish of the silk robe, which I leave open for a few tantalizing seconds because I enjoyed the way he stared at my body. The tip of his tongue darts out to moisten his lips and for the briefest while I contemplate on having another go at him.

Of course, it just stays as that. Contemplation. Another thing about me you should know is that I pride myself with having self control. I believe in strict discipline and that if I was to be lenient to myself even for the merest of seconds, I would regret it in one way or another.

You might find it ridiculous. You might call me uptight. But then again, you're not living my life, are you? Do you want an example?

Alright.

The last time I was ever lenient at myself was when I was with Sebastian. The very, very last time happened when I happened to eavesdrop on his conversation with Annette and realize with utmost horror that he was telling her he _loved_ her. Normally I would have just tried to talk him out of it, but no. Something happened to me that day. All my valid points for discussion flew out the window and I went to him, grabbed the back of his neck, and started kissing him. Not a thought was in my head except perhaps 'Get him back, goddamn that fucking hick!'. That was me not adhering to my own principles. That was me being lenient to myself.

And what happened?

He laughed at me. Yes. An actual laugh that can clearly be read as me being fucking pathetic. I wanted to hit him then.

I suppose you could say that snapped me back to reality. Since then, whenever I feel tempted to stray from my own rules, I remember that moment. I remember my stepbrother. I don't know if I should hit him or kill him. I can probably do both but he wouldn't be worth the jail time or the nuisance.

"Who's Blaine?" Adrian asks possessively. Like every other spoiled rich man I've dated, he hates the thought of sharing me.

I finally close my robe, tying the sash delicately before pausing to give him another kiss, which he hesitantly returns.

"He's gay." I smirk, licking his lip. "Why so jealous?"

"Because you're my baby, okay?"

Sure. Did you tell that to Amber Fitzgerald when you were banging her against the wall? A different girl would have been thrilled to have Adrian say that to her, but I know better. That's what makes me valued among the others. I'm not willing to buy what they're selling and it drives them wild.

"Mhmm." I reply, giving him another coquettish smile that makes my green eyes light up more than it should.

I believe you. Really, I do. I believe you as much as I believe in God. I believe you about as much as Sebastian loves me.

No. I shouldn't have said that.

---

Blaine's eyes follow my movement once again as I lean back against the comfortable chair of the quaint café he'd insisted on dragging me to. Almost against my wishes, I order a cup of coffee. I'd rather have some vodka but that wouldn't look very proper, would it?

The couple at the nearby table results into an argument when the boyfriend stares at my legs for too long and I roll my eyes behind my eyeglasses before laughing to myself. A part of me wanted to tell the agitated girlfriend that if he's openly checking women out then he's fucking other women too, but I held my tongue. Instead, I ignore the threats of breaking up and hesitantly take a sip of my coffee. I'm not really a coffee drinker but for appearance's sake I bear with it.

"So?" Blaine asks, his little pinkie is slightly lifted up as he drinks his tea. I try not to smile at the sight of it.

"So what?"

Here comes the inevitable. Very few people have the right and the guts to actually ask me a direct question like the one Blaine will most likely ask minutes from now. It annoys me that Blaine knows I won't do something horrible to make him regret ever prying into my private life. It annoys me even more to realize that I can _almost_ trust him. Almost. You'd never have me telling him every dirty little secret and sin I have.

"How're things?"

I can see through him so much that he's starting to look like a cartoon character. This amuses me.

"It's fine. We fucked three times before I left to meet you."

True enough, his eyes bulge out of its sockets. He's assuming I'm referring to Sebastian. His jaw drops open and he actually leans in forward as though I would actually tell him about every little detail of my sexual escapade.

"You-him-fucked?" He stutters, clearly this wasn't the answer he was expecting.

"Yes. I didn't even have to fake it. He came, I came, and then I left him to meet you."

"But he's okay now? Can he even fuck? And well, I mean, he hates your guts. He actually wants you to shrivel up, jump off a cliff, and die a painful death."

He said that? There's a twitch. A twinge. A small needle stab. It doesn't hurt much, but it still bothers me. The joke is over now. I've suddenly lost my mood to continue leading the fairy on.

"I was talking about Adrian." I reply frostily.

"And I was referring to Valmont, but do tell about your exploits with the young heir anyway." Blaine smacks his lips and it brings my mood back up a few notches. "He's hot. Tell me, is his cock as big as mine?"

"Bigger." I chuckle and Blaine smiles at me. His face turns serious after that.

Ah, here comes the inevitable.

"But seriously. Valmont's still pissed off at you?"

"Who wouldn't be?"

"I'm not." He shrugs, picking up his cup again. "I find you absolutely adorable despite the fact that you tend to ruin people's lives for your own sick and twisted amusement."

"And I find you absolutely annoying." I sneer but he catches the undertone there. He grins at that.

We remain silent for a few minutes, glancing out the street and watching people pass. I don't know how Blaine's come to understand me to this extent, but I like the fact that he doesn't push me for answers the way some people do. Some people are threatened by my silence. Blaine knows that unless he's done something to make me angry, he's exempted from my wrath.

"He called me a whore."

"He what??"

I shrug, "I suppose it's true to some extent."

"Well," he scratches his head. "Yeah."

I glare at him.

"But you're missing the point. Valmont would never call you that."

"He has, actually. Numerous times even before the hick showed up."

"That was in jest."

"It was." I agree. I can still remember the way he said it to me that day. Bitter. Resentful. Like I was the devil. He hasn't spoken to me since.

"This wasn't?"

"No."

"When?"

"Before he came back to the house."

"Was that why you were walking from the hospital?"

I don't think about the next word that comes out of my mouth but as soon as it does, it is a revelation for both Blaine and me.

"Yes."

"Kathryn…"

I can't be here. I don't want to look at Blaine and even see how he's looking at me. I look at my wristwatch and stand up. It's four o'clock. I have to get ready.

"Are you coming tonight?"

"Of course. It's Valmont's birthday."

I wish it wasn't.

Blaine walks me to the limo and I hand the numerous shopping bags to the driver. As he loads them inside, Blaine touches my shoulder. I stiffen. He immediately pulls it back. I'm not used to acts like that.

"He's going to come around."

"I don't care."

I turn around and hear his reply.

"You already said that."

"I know."

---

Hours later, I'm dressed in my finest. My hand is looped through Adrian's arm and we greet the guests with plastic smiles on our faces. At least, mine was plastic. Adrian seems to be at ease with them, particularly because he's spent the majority of the time greeting the females he'd already bedded. I don't feel jealous. I'd cut off his dick if he even thought of openly flirting with them. He can do it later, when I'm off not giving a damn about him.

The ballroom of the Merteuil-Valmont home was littered with formally suited guests, I suppose Edward felt guilty for his son almost dying that he spared no thought about the money at all. Then again, he probably would have been the same even if Sebastian isn't limping around with a cane. As the piano lulled everybody into a dull but (forced) pleasant conversations (and gossiping), I excuse myself from Adrian and our _friends_. With another fake smile, I saunter out onto the streets, where I unfortunately am greeted by the sight of the birthday boy with his golden girl, surrounded by their own circle of friends. Christ. These were the people Sebastian could never stand. The overachieving, _"Welcome to Manchester Prep, My name is:"_ type.

I stay back and watch from a distance, taking a cigarette from my purse to light it.

Sebastian's tie is loosened and he's not saying anything at all. As the cars zoomed by on the street, Annette lets out another laugh as some loser says something pathetic and non-witty. Sebastian's scratching the skin where his collar touched him and he had this look in his eyes, like he was in a trance. It seemed like he wasn't even there at all. He was intently watching the cars pass by and even from this far I could see him clench his fists every time a cab drove by.

I can imagine what he's thinking.

The moment of impact. Blood and bones breaking. His body on the ground. His leg isn't functioning. The pain. The physical pain.

Suddenly a cab gets too close to him, about three feet or so and I see him suck in a breath. His eyes widen and he suddenly looks panicked, but still his stupid girlfriend remains absolutely oblivious. She even takes his hand and gives him a peck on the cheek, mistaking his sudden stiffness for nothing but a trivial move.

He looks like he's inwardly hyperventilating. Or like he's about to jump from his skin. He even looks like he's going to start screaming.

I've had enough. I drop the cigarette and step on it, extinguishing the orange glow. I walk purposefully toward them. His blue eyes are still on the street. He's thinking about that day. He can't be outside like that. At any rate, he's going to pass out. Valmont isn't weak or anything, in fact, his threshold for all things gory and disgusting is far greater than mine. When we were younger, we saw a car run over a dog. I started crying and he just didn't say anything at all. He was even looking at the gory mess like it fascinated him. It probably did. But the accident was too much for his threshold. It broke through it, even severed the boundaries. It severed a lot of things.

I smile at the losers politely and they smile back, obviously glad at being acknowledged by me. Annette glares at me and I give her an extra brighter smile to mock her. Sebastian looks at me with that look still, like he's in a trance and he's in pain and he doesn't have time to hate me.

"I need to borrow my brother for a while. You wouldn't mind, would you?" I tell them in a polite, warm and cordial voice. They're charmed by me. Not Annette, but I didn't care about her. The stupid bitch can't even see that her boyfriend looks like he's about to pass out.

I take his arm and he doesn't resist. He's not even looking at me. He's still looking at the cars and the cabs. He's probably imagining his blood on the bumper.

Wordlessly, we walk back inside. I loop my arm through his and he doesn't put up a fight. It's like walking with a different person.

I lead him into the library, where he always goes whenever he wants to be alone. As I shut the door, I let go of his hand and only then did he seem to notice where he was and who he was with. He blinks several times while he's looking at me. He's balancing his weight against the wooden cane.

"I was… There… There was the… I saw blood. Blood and cars." He struggles to talk. He looks so tired I didn't want to make fun of him. Besides, it was _partly _my doing why he's lost his mind anyway. I figured I could be nice just this once. Again I wondered what on earth possessed the virgin's mind to celebrate his birthday when it had only been a week since the accident. Was she on drugs?

"You don't have to explain." I answer, retracing my steps back to the door so I could make my exit.

He catches this and he still looks at me like I am covered in mist. "I still hate you. I still think you're a filthy whore."

"I know."

I turn my back on him and step out into the hallway. When I move to shut the door, I realize he's still watching me. Still looking at me. Our eyes meet. The hand holding the knob freezes.

"But you look beautiful tonight, Kathryn." He finally says and I close the door without replying. When I return to the party, I take Adrian's hand and we leave. I spend the night with him between my legs and inside of me.

I take his face between my hands just as he's about to come and he looks at me with warm brown eyes.

"You look beautiful tonight, baby." He whispers this and I kiss him. I kiss him like I've never kissed him before.

That night I had a dream. It was in yellow and red and blue. I dreamt of flying cars and falling bodies. I dreamt of a mirror in front of me and how I saw a putrid, disgusting slut with blistering skin and dry, stiff hair.

I dreamt of Adrian fucking me in front of the same mirror. He had blue eyes then.

* * *

A/N:. No time to reply except to say that there's no fixed amount of chapters as of yet. But I'm starting to like this. It reminds me of Unlikely.Oh! And thanks for those who're reading this. 


	3. Tertius

_Stare into my eyes  
Rake your nails across my skin  
I know the reason embers of you scatter as you breathe_

-From Autumn to Ashes

You look beautiful tonight, Kathryn.

As far as last words go, I suppose I'd prefer it than "Please don't ever talk to me again."

What can I tell you? It's been a month since the accident and true to form, Sebastian's been ignoring me ever since. I don't mind. I like the silence, I even welcome it sometimes. I mean, since that night of his birthday, he even warmed up a bit. He used to blatantly ignore my presence, now he acknowledges it. He just doesn't acknowledge me.

What persistently annoys me the most is his girlfriend. Can't he just fuck some other debutante and get it over and done with? I mean, he's probably proving a point. He's probably making me see that he can have an actual functioning relationship with a girl who had half a brain.

Yes, I'm secure with my own attributes enough to admit that Annette Hargrove's brain is larger than most of the females Valmont has bedded. But then again, most of the females Valmont has bedded never possessed one, so I suppose she's a step up either way.

Well, as of right now I would like to take that half of a brain Annette Hargrove possessed and step on it until she's one bloody incoherent puddle.

That might sound a bit harsh but if you really knew me (I emphasize the world _really_), then you wouldn't be surprised. Why was I more annoyed than usual?

She's been pacing around the fucking hallway looking for him as though he'd magically pop up if she concentrated hard enough. The sound of her shoes surprisingly sounds like someone's using a blackboard for a scratching post. My mood is beginning to border on downright pissed off and Blaine immediately notices it. As of the moment, we were currently seated in the living room after a long day of shopping and my earlier almost contentment of my new purchases was being tainted by the sight of her blonde head passing by.

"God, she's like a fucking rodent." I wince in disdain and Blaine chuckles, crossing his legs. "If she doesn't stop pacing within the next five minutes I'm going to kill her and then you can say it was an accident so I wouldn't have to go to jail."

"Oh, cut her some slack. What would you do if your boyfriend's been pulling a disappearing act on you for the past few days?"

"You do know it's that time of the year though, don't you? It's that two week thing he always does."

Blaine frowns and then suddenly realizes what I'm talking about. Ever since we were legally related, Sebastian always goes somewhere Blaine and I don't know about for two weeks. It's been a routine filled with so much mystery I wanted to poke and prod his head just to see where he's been going. Blaine and I had tried to get it out of him, but for some reason he always manages to dodge it and no, I haven't resorted to following him around when he leaves. I'm not that desperate to know what he's been hiding. I actually have better things to do than obsess about him, which is more than I can say for the yellow haired rodent lurking nearby.

Anyway, even though it still nags me that I still have no clue where he's been disappearing to, I can't deny the satisfaction I get when I realize that the hick was just as in the dark as I am.

"He's still doing that?" he asks, puffing on his cigarette. "What do you think he's doing?"

"Kathryn?"

Ugh. That voice. I almost wish there had been another female in the same room as we were so I could pretend I thought she was referring to someone else.

I turn around and see Annette glancing at me. "Yes?"

"He's been missing his therapy for the past three days and… Well, I'm beginning to worry. Do you know where he's been going?"

"Annette," I respond patiently, placing the glass of martini down. "I think you're a clingy, pathetic waste of time. I don't care. Do you really think I would go out of my way to make your life easier?"

"Actually, I was hoping you'd have the courtesy to let me know where _my_ boyfriend's been. After all, he _is_ your stepbrother."

"You make it sound as though he was five. Do I look like his keeper?"

"No, actually you look more like an evil whore to me."

What the fuck? I clench my fists and was about to slap her fucking face off when I feel Blaine grab my arm.

"Down, princess." He murmurs, his eyes peering into mine. "Don't let her get you this worked up."

"I'll show her worked up." I grit my teeth and tug my arm from his grip only to realize that Annette had already left. Fucking coward.

"Hey… Easy…"

What's peculiar is that he manages to mollify me. Within the next few minutes, I forget all about the blonde. It's easy to erase her from my mind. She's not very important anyway. I wish it were just as easy to erase her from my life.

"Although, you do realize that we still have no idea where he's been going all these years, right?"

"He's probably banging some girl." I shrug, "I wouldn't be surprised."

"He's been disappearing the same month, the same two weeks, ever since he was twelve."

"Like I told the virgin," I flip my hair, picking up the glass again. "Do I look like I care?"

Blaine finds this amusing and he only smirks at me.

"I saw you with him that night of his party."

"So?"

"It looked like caring to me."

"I did the bastard a favor." I glare at him, daring him to contradict me. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Sure, Kathryn. Sure."

---

They're having another argument. Again. For a couple who are all about what's noble and right, they certainly don't sound like their relationship is all pretty bows and colorful rainbows.

"I have not been cheating on you, okay??" Sebastian's angry voice startles me and I put my pen down, staring at my closed door and quench the need to eavesdrop. Instead, I try to focus on schoolwork, for yes, despite my above average intelligence I still feel compelled to give some sort of effort. Besides, it gives me something to do. Adrian's… Well, he called earlier to say he was spending time with his family. Translation: He's fucking Amber.

I'm not jealous. I could just as easily find my own fuck buddy if I wanted to. I just choose to discipline myself from time to time.

His door opens and slams. I hear footsteps now.

"Where have you been going then?" she demands and I cringe. This is what I hate. This is what I will never sound like. If she hadn't slept with Sebastian, I could have even respected her. I don't exactly agree with her manifesto, but I could have respected it if she didn't fuck my stepbrother after only weeks of having known him. That makes her a fucking hypocrite, and it's fine. It really was, until she called me a whore. Like she's any different. She had been willing to give her fucking body to a guy after he says he loves her.

I suppose it takes one to know one.

"Nowhere!"

"Sebastian, if you could just let me in… Just…"

"What? You'd like to have a bonfire and share our thoughts and feelings under the stars?"

I laugh out loud at his sarcasm. That almost sounded like the Sebastian I knew once.

She groans, "YOU ARE SO INSENSITIVE! God!"

"Bitch." I swore under my breath, there is really something about her that grates at my nerves.

Their voices are fainter now. They've gone farther from my door.

My now partially open door.

"Fuck, you know I can't deal with this right now." He says again, trying his best to be calm but yet there's a tone in his voice that just betrays it. He's starting to get pissed off. I wish he'd strangle her. I wouldn't tell anyone. I'd even help him get rid of the body.

She replies something, but I almost can't hear her. I hate that curiosity gets the best of me, because I know that any chance of actually getting work done is now zero. I'd have to call Adrian later, I'm too fucking tense I need to get off.

I can't help it. I peek through the opening and I see them, he's leaning against the wall while she stands in front of him with crossed arms.

"I love you, but you have to trust me." She answers quietly. "I just worry about you."

He sighs and uses a hand to touch her cheek. His anger is melting, I see it. The way his mouth turns up and the way he looks at her. Did he even look at me that way before? I can't remember. Wow. I can't even remember. Has it really been a month since the party?

"I'm sorry." He finally says, leaning back while his eyes close for a second. "It's just something I need to do. I'm not seeing someone else, nor do I have any plans to. It's just… me. Can you do that? Can you trust me when I say that I can't tell you? Not right now, it's something I only tell people when I'm ready."

"You mean when you trust them."

"This isn't easy for me, Annette."

"Does Kathryn know?"

Hmm. Interesting. _Does_ Kathryn know?

"No. Nobody does. This isn't about her."

She remains quiet for a while and he's looking at her so intently I could have paraded around naked and he wouldn't notice. Finally, he smiles at her and he wraps an arm around her waist.

"Okay." She replies quietly. "When you're ready…"

He kisses her forehead and I make the mistake of not closing the door. Too late. Our eyes meet but he doesn't freeze at all. He's rubbing her back in such an intimate manner it nauseated me.

"Thank you for understanding." He tells her, but he's looking at me like he's addressing me instead of her. I remain quiet. My hand clenches. Understanding what? What did I understand?"

"It's not easy to." Annette says.

"I know. But you do it even though I keep things from you… Even though I don't say anything, somehow you know what to do. I rarely say this, especially to you but… thank you."

He's still staring at me. He's comforting her but he's talking to me.

I nod mutely. I don't know what to say.

"I'll walk you downstairs." He takes her hand and just like that, I'm invisible again. They disappear into the darkness and I stand there for a few minutes, wondering what the hell just happened.

---

I need another lap.

The water feels cold against my skin as I slice across the pool almost mechanically. I keep my eyes open, and every movement, every kick and every stroke, I feel as though the world has rolled over and died and I'm the only one left. It's a nice feeling.

It's midnight and I have a meeting for the student council later, but I know that this is one of those nights wherein I have too many thoughts and I'd have to tire myself so I would fall asleep quickly. I used to have sleeping pills, but Sebastian made me promise to give them up since I had a tendency to drink alcohol before I take those pills. Of course, that was a long time ago but call me crazy. I feel compelled to keep whatever I promised him even though he hates me.

Breathe in. Out. Kick. Relax, Kathryn.

Finally, I do get tired. I try to catch my breath, smoothing my long hair back from my face. I stare around the room, trying to get some perspective, to make sense of things. I try to remember the last time I had been this… alone.

The double doors open and Sebastian comes in. He gives me the slightest nod before he heads to the bars he'd had installed for his therapy. He's wearing loose, drawstring pants and a white shirt. This was as informal as I'd seen him, aside of course from days when I'd catch him in his boxers as he came out of his room (with a girl on his bed).

I watch as he places his cane down and grips the bars unsteadily. The damage on his leg had been more worse than I thought, it's been a month and he still had difficulty walking. He grits his teeth as he takes one step at a time, his arms are shaking even though he's strong for a man.

Step. Step. He's shaking.

"Don't push yourself too hard."

He seems surprised to hear me talk, but he glares at me.

"I don't need your help." He snaps, but suddenly the glare disappears because he underestimates the next step. He stumbles and he falls, his forehead hits the bar and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a curse and a groan.

I get out of the pool and take my robe to wrap it around myself.

"Get away from me, Kathryn."

"No."

"What?"

"Are you sure your ears weren't affected by the accident? I said _no_."

He reaches out for the bars and instinctively, I hold my arms out to try to help him up but he jerks away from me.

"I said get away."

"And I said no."

I place my hands on his waist and I try my best to support him. He's gone quiet now, but I can still feel him shaking.

"You can't push me away forever, Valmont."

"Yes, I can. You don't care."

"I'm just trying to get you across. It doesn't mean that I'm pathetically in love with you and it certainly doesn't mean that I care."

He's not putting up that much of a struggle and I hesitantly let go of him. He smells like he always has, something boyish and elegant and distinctly him. I could only smell that if I get too close.

I smelled it that night at the library and that day he came after Annette.

Sebastian's managed to do it. Slowly I back away and his arms start shaking. He's gritting his teeth so much I wonder if he's going to have any left after he's done.

His face is turning red and it's still a long way to go for him.

"Fuck." He mutters, flinching at each step.

"Talk to me." I tell him as he takes one wobbly step after another.

"You're the devil."

"Well, you're not exactly a saint."

"I saved Annette's life." He's frowning and he's still gritting his teeth. "It's not going to make me instantly pure and holy but it counts for something. It makes me human, whereas you… _What_ are you?"

There it is again, the needle stab. I ignore it. Twitch. Twinge. A bothersome nuisance.

"Why?"

He stops trying to walk, "Why what?"

"Why did you save her?"

"Because I love her, okay?"

God. Nauseate me further, would you? I turn away and leave without replying. He's not saying anything, but I can feel him watching me. In the past I would've just slipped off my robe and he would've come after me, but it's different this time. We're growing apart like some goddamn couple that was never a couple.

"Hey, Kathryn." He calls out to me while I stop to pick up the glass of brandy waiting for me at the table.

"What?"

"That night… I mean, you know… When I was…"

"Having a weird anxiety attack?"

He has this ability to silence me with a single look, which he does effectively because I don't say the next sarcastic comment I was thinking of.

"My mother died in a car accident."

My mouth opens and closes.

"Why are you telling me this?"

He blinks. He has that off into another world look. He also had that when I was walking him to the library during his party.

"I don't know. I didn't want you to think I was being a pussy that night."

"You weren't."

He looks almost relieved, "Really?"

"Well, maybe a little. Why do you care what I think?"

"For the same reason you helped me out even though I thought you were an evil whore."

I shift my weight, finishing my drink.

"And what reason would that be?"

"Well, what was _your_ reason?"

"I don't have a reason."

He wipes the sweat from his forehead as he breathes hard. It's not normal for me to watch him get tired so easily.

"Neither do I. Maybe we're like one those things that just are."

I backtrack and take two water bottles from the small fridge by the bar. By now he's preoccupied with completing his walk. I try not to make any sound. I don't want this to become a big deal because it isn't. I place the bottles on the nearby table and leave before he can turn around to notice me.

Strangely enough, I suddenly realize that it must be where he gets that look. That lost, confused look he'd had when he was standing outside while watching cars.

Like a curly blond haired blue-eyed little boy who was waiting for death to hit him like it did his mother.

* * *

Happy holidays, everybody 

a reader: Thanks for the review, and it's always nice to hear when well, when a reader is able to empathize with the characters. I try very hard to make them as real as possible. ;-)

Katie: (Gasp!) You mean there was actually a time when I didn't fill your hard drive with quotes?? What has the world come to?! Haha, well, in that case it's great to be back.

B: In your case, is a single smiley worth a thousand praises? Cuz I'd really like to think of it that way. Haha

* * *


	4. Quârtus

_ Sweet and low and to the point  
you always get your way  
but I've long run out on any thoughts and words to fill the space  
if this is supposed to be something more  
then kindly explain what all the pain is for_

-MoZella

I wonder how long it'll take for her to die if I wrapped my scarf around her neck. Would her face turn blue? Would she flail around like a moron while gasping for help?

Mm… That's a very enticing thought. It even tops my list of favorite fantasies, the first of which involves a threesome with… Well, never mind. That's just me.

Let's see… It's the third day of the two weeks Sebastian becomes this sullen, moody downtrodden teenager as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. At this time of the year (it never fails, there's always that pattern), he resembles one of those angst ridden leather jacket wearing rebels who sit at the back of the classroom doing God knows what. Of course, having known him for as long as I did, I didn't give it much thought. In the past (when we still got along well), there were even times when I would build my own schedule with his mysterious two-week thing in mind. Like if I had plans and I wanted him with me, I knew better than to ask him to compromise whatever it was he was doing for the next two weeks. There are some things that are just nonnegotiable about the both of us. In turn, he knew that under no circumstances could I be persuaded to attend a certain play (I'd give you a list but I'm afraid it's too long and it's really not important for you to know it), so when he wanted to see something that I loathed, he wouldn't ask me to go. In reality I'm quite fond of the theater, we both are. I think he likes having me to watch plays with. We would go out for a drink after but if we were both tired, he'd stay in my room for a while. Sometimes we talked about the play. Sometimes we talked about everything else. Sometimes he just stands out on the balcony smoking while I undressed to go to sleep. It's like clockwork. A very well maintained machine. When I'm about to drift off, I'd feel him press his palm on my shoulder before he leaves. That's his way of saying goodnight. It always happens. He'd never say anything and I really don't know how he knows at what exact time I fall asleep.

Sebastian and I are quite selfish people, and don't get me wrong, we weren't like a couple or anything. I admit that before that twit came and ruined our lives, I even enjoyed his company. But we knew when to push and when to compromise. It's one of the things I'd liked about us.

Of course, it's all fucked up now.

Having been used to this thing with him, I remain nonchalant and try very hard not to laugh to myself when I hear Annette's voice sounding pissed off. Good. Maybe if she gets pissed off enough she might do something rash like jump off the balcony or something.

You might realize that this is about the third or fourth time I've dreamt of her demise. I hate her that much.

"Now why does this scenario feel familiar?"

I smile serenely at Blaine, shrugging. "It's the two week thing. It's driving her crazy."

"Don't be too smug, if I recall, the same thing drove you crazy once."

"Sometimes I have no idea whose side you're on."

He checks his nails, looking at me with an expression that expressed mock hurt. "I'm appalled. Do you think I would side with her?"

"For all I know, you could have a thing for pathetic twits."

"I'm gay."

"That certainly didn't stop you from going down on me that one time we were at a party."

"I was drunk!" He winces at the memory, but it only makes me smirk.

"It's okay, you don't have to defend yourself. In fact, you should actually be proud. You made me come."

"Really?"

"Uh huh, you could have taught Court Reynolds a thing or two."

"Annette?" Sebastian's voice fills the air and we share a look. With feigned nonchalance, I stand up and grab my purse.

"We're leaving."

"But we just got here."

"And now, we're leaving. Trust me, Sebastian will not realize that he's gay no matter how long you lurk around so give it up, Tuttle."

He places his hand over his chest, "Now why must you continually put a damper on my secret fantasies? I don't know why I bother hanging out with you when I could have been with Greg."

"It's probably because of my winning personality."

"Hmm… I was thinking more along the lines of your fat wallet."

"I'm meeting Adrian for a late lunch, so I'd really like to buy that dress I've been eyeing now."

"Alright, alright." He grumbles, "Fucking pushover."

"Fucking fag."

"Touché."

We run straight into the golden couple as we head for the door. Annette looks sullen while Sebastian talks to her in a hushed voice. Hmm. Trouble in the blond/blonde and blue-eyed paradise? When they notice us, Annette's blue eyes narrow with utmost dislike at me while Sebastian gives me the same look he's been giving to me ever since we parted ways: The Look That Says Absolutely Nothing.

"Valmont." Blaine greets them and then after a long and hesitant pause, he grudgingly adds. "Annette."

"Hey, Tuttle." Sebastian nods in return while Annette murmurs a polite but clearly fake greeting. Blaine ignores her. He dislikes her almost as much as I do.

I don't expect to be greeted, so I only muster a quick glance before I go out the door. I make it halfway to the waiting car when I feel a hand grab my shoulder gently. Thinking it was Blaine, I pulled away with an expletive ready to escape my mouth.

"Don't you fucking grab me—"

My words turn into ghosts unsaid in my mouth as soon as I realize that it isn't Blaine after all.

"Hi," Sebastian says, clearing his throat.

"Hi." I reply, wondering what the hell he was doing.

His hand slips into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out an envelope, keeping his blue eyes fixed on mine as though he was expecting me to suddenly ditch him before he finishes his purpose of acknowledging me.

"Here." He hands the envelope to me and I open it to realize that he'd gotten two tickets to one of my favorite but rarely performed plays in New York. "I was driving back from…"

He shakes his head slightly, as though admonishing himself. "I was… I got a call from one of my contacts informing me of that they were already selling tickets… And I know how much you liked it so, you know."

I frown at him, "Why?"

He shrugs, "Just don't make a big deal out of it. It's nothing. You can take Adrian if you want."

I smile wryly, "If I take him with me, he's going to spend the entire night trying to get me to blow him. That'll ruin the play for me."

He smiles. There's a scar that cuts through his left eyebrow that I haven't even noticed. I like it on him. Somehow it makes him look older than he really was.

"Or take Tuttle. I got you two tickets."

"But you don't like me." I speak slowly, trying to figure him out. He runs hot and cold. If he had been a female, he could have given me a run for my money. "Why are you doing this?"

He shrugs, leaning against his cane. "I don't know. Why? Don't you want it?"

"I do, but I don't get you. One minute you're calling me an evil whore, a manipulative slut, and—"

"A bulimic head case?"

"No, actually that's what Cecile referred to me as."

He smiles again, and I hesitantly mirror the grin.

"Sebastian, what are you doing?"

"What?"

I hold up the envelope, "This. What is this?"

He looks at me like I'm an idiot, "They're tickets."

"Don't be a smartass. What does it mean?"

"It means I got you tickets." He sighs, "But if you insist on psychoanalyzing me and trying to make all the pieces of the puzzle you've constructed in that malicious head of yours fit, then just give it back."

"Now, are you kids done with your flirting? There's one very impatient blonde girlfriend waiting inside and I, for one, would like to get out of here."

We both look at Blaine, but he's grinning like he knows something we didn't. It starts to annoy me.

"Bye, Kathryn."

"Wait."

He turns around and looks at me with a questioning look.

"These are for tonight… Adrian's not really into it and Blaine's spending the night with his faggot loser boyfriend and—"

"I heard that!" Blaine interrupts indignantly. "Greg happens to be—"

"Shut up." I snap at him. "Sebastian, maybe you can…"

"I can't." He responds coolly. Damn. Hot water. Cold water. I'm beginning to think the accident somehow made him schizophrenic. Then again, maybe he'd anticipated that. Maybe he just wanted me to ask him so he could shoot me down. That's so like him. That bastard.

"Fine." I retort indifferently, getting into the car. Blaine follows after me and Sebastian heads back inside. I keep hoping he would trip and bang his head against the ground or something but I can only wish for so much.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing."

---

My Sunday afternoon found me angrily doing my laps again; with each splash I imagine I'm hitting the twit. With my feet kicking I imagine that arrogant blond bastard's face. After I easily pull through twenty laps, I stop to catch my breath.

The door opens and I almost curse out loud. What, did he have some sort of special radar that informs him where I am so he could pull that hot cold shit on me again?

He senses my mounting irritation and hobbles over to the side of the pool, "Listen, Kathryn about earlier—"

"It's fine." I cut him off, "I get it."

He places his cane and manages to sit on the nearby chair. "You do?"

"Yes." I glare at him, "No, you know what? I don't. I don't fucking get it. Can we just make it clear? I'm tired of this, listen, do you hate me or not? It's been two months since the accident and to be honest, you're confusing me."

"You're an impulse."

I step out of the pool and grab my robe, quickly wrapping it around myself. His eyes rake over my body quietly before resting on my face.

"I'm a what?"

"An impulse." He repeats. "I've known you my whole life. I know almost everything about you. I know that you can't get stuck in the middle of a very large crowd because chances are; you're going to pass out. You need space to function well; you don't do well with people getting too close to you. You're an obsessive person who always wants everything just the way you want it, your room is so organized and clean but I know where you keep your stash. I know all your favorite plays and songs, and you're never going to admit this but I know that you're wary of heights. When we were younger, we went on the Ferris wheel and you almost threw up."

"Your point being?" My heart thuds as he names all the other small things I never even noticed about myself. How the hell does he do that?

"My point is that I have nearly seventeen years' worth of facts and memories about you jammed inside my head. Granted the cab did hit me pretty hard, I can't just erase everything easily. Whenever I see something I know you'd like, it becomes an impulse to buy it or to tell you about it. That's why you're an impulse. It doesn't mean that I don't dislike you and that I'm not harboring any ill feelings. I do and I am. But.,. I can't help it. I'm trying though. The other day I went inside the bakery to buy Annette that cheesecake that she liked, only I saw that cookie you'd loved as a child... I still catch you looking at one every once in a while even if you don't know that I notice…" He pauses, there's a twinkle in his blue eyes I never thought I'd see when he talks to me. "I know you don't eat it anymore but if you did, you probably throw it up these days though… And… I wanted to buy one for you, because that's what I've done in the past. See? An impulse. It's part of my system… But I didn't buy it. Because I'm trying to detach myself from you but it's difficult. Sometimes I relapse. Thus, the tickets."

I gape at him, "What?"

"You're like my car." He tries again patiently. "I'm used to it so much that if I'm driving a different one, I find myself trying to look for the things my Jag has before I realize that I'm not driving it anymore."

"I'm the Jag." I speak slowly, "So… In relation, when you're 'driving' the twit, you find yourself reaching for my parts before you realize that it's not me you're groping?"

This time, it's his turn to gape. He looks so affronted and indignant that I wanted to continue letting him believe that I didn't understand his stupid explanation and his moronic analogy when I really did. I get it. He's looking at me like I just asked him if the sun was yellow and I'm trying very hard not to laugh at him.

"Seriously, Kathryn?"

I sit beside him, wiping my face with a towel.

"Seriously, Valmont." I reply with a straight face.

He looks at me for a long time and I can't help it. I smile, and then that smile turns into a genuine laugh I haven't used in a long time.

"God, when have you become so gullible?" I sigh, the laughter fading from my mouth. "Ah, yes. Since Hargrove rendered you whipped."

He shakes his head, "Don't talk about her."

"Why not?"

"Because when you talk about her, I'm reminded of what you've done to me and when I'm reminded of that, I start wishing you were dead all over again."

He wishes I were dead? He's good at this needle-stabbing thing.

"Fine. Then I won't talk to you at all." I stand up and look down at him, "But just so you know, in all the years I've known you, all those fucking years we've had our disagreements, I've never wished for you to be dead. Hurt, maybe. Humiliated and damaged, sure. But dead? No. I don't want you to be dead. I never wanted anything like that to happen. Goodbye, I have to get dressed."

"Who are you taking to see the play?"

"What the fuck do you care?"

"I don't care."

"Good."

"Great!"

I slam the door shut.

---

Hours later, I'm standing in front of the mirror watching myself critically. A pale young woman with perfectly brushed hair and dark green eyes stared back as if to say "What?"

What indeed. I can't believe I didn't invite Adrian even though I knew that he would pretty much distract me, but then again, who said I needed a companion anyway? I mean, I'm one of those people who can take care of themselves better than if they had people who gave a damn about them. I had thought about not going, but then I realized that I would probably enjoy it even if I were on my own. It's not like I'm entirely dependent on someone else.

After checking to see if I had everything in order, I pick up my purse and head for the door.

When I open it, Sebastian stood there with his hand raised in mid knock. Those damn blue eyes of his lock quickly with mine as he clears his throat.

"Are you taking Adrian?"

"No."

"Blaine?"

"No."

"Anybody else?"

I glare at him.

"Oh. Okay. Come on then."

He takes my wrist and I'm too surprised to reply. We make it just past the doorway and the doorman when I finally collect my wits, stopping just enough to make him do the same.

"Sebastian,"

"What?" he's annoyed. We would be too late if we spent anymore time there. He loves that play as much as I do.

"Do you hate me or not? I'm serious; I don't want to spend the rest of the night trying to see if you have a knife secretly hidden in your jacket somewhere so you could murder me later."

He rolls his eyes, "It's just a play. Since when have you become such a girl?"

"In case the breasts might have escaped your attention, I'm actually part of the female population."

"Fine. Since when have you become exceedingly full of sentimental feelings and since when did you have a flair of the overdramatic?"

"Why are you doing this to me? Is this some sort of scheme you've thought of with the blonde? What? While I'm gone she's going to have the police raid the house so they could find where I keep my… _things_?"

"Kathryn… It's… just… a… play."

"I don't trust you. You're planning something. You want revenge for what happened."

He shakes his head slightly; his eyes mirror some sort of sadness I can barely understand. "I don't want anything from you."

"Are you trying to drive me insane from paranoia?"

"No, although if you did go crazy I'd enjoy watching you make an ass out of yourself."

I grip my purse tightly, watching him with a guarded look. "What is this, Sebastian?"

"Get in."

"No. I'm not doing this. You're planning something, I can tell. Fuck the play, you watch it. I'm done. I'm not playing games with you."

He grabs my arm the way he did earlier in the day as I turn back.

"It was my fault as much as yours."

"What is?"

"The accident." He replies, running a hand though his blond hair. "I've thought about it a lot… And a part of it's my fault. You were right; I did fall for her. I didn't want to lose my reputation, so I went back to you. I tried to fuck you, yes. It wouldn't have been fair. You know me more than anybody else does, and I should have known you would know it too. That's why you were angry at me. You knew I loved her. You knew I only went back to you because I didn't want my name to be ruined. That's why you sent Ronald after me."

I refuse to let him unnerve me, "Congratulations, would you like a medal for that?"

"Come on, Kathryn…"

"No. I want things to be clear with us, what is this? Are we okay again?"

"I don't know."

"Fuck you, Sebastian." I snap back, "I'm not doing this with you."

By now nothing could have persuaded me to attend that play. I remain inside my room for the rest of the night, angrily pouring mysel a glass of wine when I hear his footsteps eventually fill the hallway.

The footsteps stop and it is followed by a polite knock on my door. I immediately know it's him. Grudgingly, I cross the room to open it and I find him staring at me.

"I almost died because of you." He talks quietly. Like a murmur. Like he shouldn't be doing what he's doing right now.

"Yes." I reply. What more can I say? Fact was fact.

"I hate a lot of things about you. The way you use people and then proceed to treat them like shit, the way you—"

"Do you think I really give a damn?"

His expression changes, like I caught him off guard. Why the hell couldn't my mother have married some ugly loser with an equally ugly son? Of all the stepbrothers to have, why the hell did I have to have the one who possessed those impossibly soft nearly perfect blond curls? Seriously. Why?

But then he suddenly leans closer, so close that I can see the blond stubble growing on his jaw. Like a prickly nest of an angel's hair. His eyes lower and I can see the thick lashes surrounding it, and I don't know what's happening with me. It feels like I'm frozen, like he somehow had the power to make me stand still. He rubs my cheek with his, and I feel the tickling sensation of the little blond hairs he'd forgotten to shave. My breath catches in my throat and he lets out a long breath, like he'd wanted to do something he'd been scared to do and just recently found that he could.

"But I miss you sometimes. I miss you but I should hate you. Isn't that odd? He talks softly in my ear, kissing my jaw while I eventually close my eyes. When I open them, all I sense is the empty air that surrounded me once again. His door eventually closes and I lie on the bed, wide-awake as ever.

The visions swim in my head easily, and I wonder if I had been hallucinating. Was I? Did I? Was that really Sebastian a while ago? Blue eyes. Long lashes. Yellow hair. Prickly cheek. That scent. The words. That deep voice murmuring those words in my ear. What the hell does he think he's doing?

I remember the little things we've done to each other but ignored ever since he got hurt. That night of his party. I saved him then. I should have saved him before that. I tried, didn't I? He didn't want to be saved. He wanted to fall crashing and burning… But that party… I saw him. I knew what he was thinking. Did that count for something?

There's another stab that's weighing me down, only this time it wasn't because of what he'd said to me. It wasn't because I was an evil whore or a manipulative slut. I remember how he walked. That limp. That cane. It makes me feel guilty. Just a little twinge that can be ignored, only I don't want to ignore it.

Suddenly it's clear. Everything almost is. I stand up and put on a change of clothes, barging into his room unannounced while he sits up startled.

"Get up."

"What?"

I take the cane and toss it away from his reach. He looks at me like I've finally gone insane.

"We're going downstairs."

He's still having trouble processing what I'm saying and I feel smug for a few seconds. Don't like how that feels, huh? Quid pro quo then, you confusing bastard.

"Why are we going downstairs?"

"You're going to fucking walk properly in the next few weeks or I'm going to take that cane, call Tuttle, and ask him to shove it up your ass. I'm sure he'd like that."

He looks at me, holding on to his pride. "I don't need your help."

"You've been missing your therapy sessions for the past few days, and I know you're off doing that weird two-week thing that—"

He starts to protest, he's always been sensitive about that topic.

"…That you won't tell people about, blahblahblah. So get up, do you want to walk with that infernal cane for the rest of your life?"

He remains silent for a while, obviously struggling whether or not to go with me.

"You can still hate me afterwards, Sebastian. It won't change the fact that I sent Ronald after you. It won't change the fact that you chose her over me." I pause, wincing at what I'm about to say next. "It won't change the fact that you love her."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's just one of those things that just are."

He blinks, recognizing his own words.

I wait for him, leaning against the wall.

Finally, little by little, his damaged knee begins shaking as he slowly leaves the bed.

"It's not so easy to fix, Kathryn."

"I know."

* * *

My right hand won't stop twitching. Damn. I think there's something wrong with me. Anyway-- 

Summerlandlover: There's actually a story behind that two week thing, if you'll notice I keep building it up. All will be revealed soon enough. ;-)

Katie: Ouch. Actually you know what I was thinking? I just realized that I could write risky fics because now I know I got you guys hooked... Lol how presumptuous of me and yet I'm hoping that a part of that's true.

Celeste: Of course they will. I've written a lot of sad endings, maybe this time I'll wrap it up with a pretty pink bow.


	5. Quintus

_I once knew a girl_

_ In the years of my youth_

_ With eyes like the summer_

_ All beauty and truth_

_ In the morning I fled_

_ Left a note and it read_

_ Someday you will be loved._

-Death Cab for Cutie

"Stop whining!"

He fixes me a steady glare, letting me know the fullest extent of his annoyance while I continue urging him to take five more steps. God, you would think that I'm asking him to go put on a dress and prance around the city. Sweat pours down his face while he grips the bars like he was imagining he was gripping my neck. Actually, that's probably what he's doing.

"Why don't you try getting hit with a car, try to walk with a fucked up leg, and then tell me that I have no right to whine?"

"You're being a baby."

"You're being a baby." He mocks, seething silently. "You know, I never asked you to do this."

"And that's what makes it all the more special." I remark sardonically, wondering if I'm enjoying the torture or if I'm also starting to get frustrated with his lack of cooperation. It's probably both.

"I need a break."

"And you're not getting one."

"Who died and made you my therapist?"

"I'm the only one who puts up with your petulant shit and we both know it. Do you really think that at the rate of how you treat your stupid girlfriend-not that I'm complaining because it's actually fun watching her get mad- and that guy who's supposed to motivate you to walk without that stupid cane that makes you look like a dirty old man, you're going to be able to walk the way you did?"

"I'm sorry, whose fault would that actually be?" He continues acting like a child. His blue eyes narrow considerably and his shirt is almost soaked with sweat. Finally taking pity on him, I give a sigh and grab the towel, dabbing his face with it while I think about what to say to him next.

Surprisingly he stops his ranting.

"What? Wow, you've been silenced. What a surprise." I almost grudgingly brush back his curls while I press the now damp towel against his cheek. He was looking at me quietly.

"What?" he blinks and tilts his head.

"How the hell can you sweat this much?"

"You've been going on like a drill sergeant on steroids for two hours now, how can I not sweat this much?"

"You're exaggerating." I peer closely at him and brushed back another errant curl without really thinking. An impulse, if you will. He smiles slightly like he remembered something funny while he continues staring at me. This is only when I realize how approximately close I had gotten to him, and in my opinion it was too close.

"I'm not." He replies, still smiling at me. His real smile. I've always liked it when he smiled at me like that.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I clear my throat and step back, tossing the towel carelessly while he watches it land on a table.

"Like what?"

"Like you're ready to tear my clothes off."

"Oh, aren't we being too cocky?"

I shrug, "It's not like you could. You can't even walk the end of this bar without flinching."

"Care to make a wager on that?" he drawls, sounding like he always did in the past.

My smile fades and so does his mirth. We both remember what happened. For a moment he looks confused, and then hesitant.

"I'll take your wager." I interject before he has the chance to reply.

He doesn't know what I'm up to, but still, the hesitance is there.

"The terms?" he asks, trying to smile again but it doesn't work this time. There's too much history between us, too much to remember and too much to want to forget.

"If you can walk at the end of this bar without that cane and without flinching, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the week."

His right hand twitches when he slowly balances his weight on his feet. His bad leg doesn't shake as much as it used to, but there's a slight tremor in his steps as he moves forward. The concentration on his face is intense, and I almost fidget with my hands uncomfortably while he keeps his blue eyes trained on mine. But I don't. He's trying to get me to look away but I'm not going to let him win. I hide my shock when I realize he's actually doing it. He's actually walking without flinching. I wonder how long he's been secretly practicing on his own, when we had gone through it together he always made it seem like I was torturing him with a whip.

My jaw drops open when he stands in front of me, so close he is able to touch my hand when his thumb moves a few millimeters.

"I win." He says quietly, looking at me.

"You do." Why the hell is my throat so dry?

"You'll leave me alone?"

I manage a shrug even though my insides feel like they're at war with each other. "I believe those were the terms."

He starts walking again, and I step back. What the hell is he doing?

"Sebastian, stop walking. You won't be able to have anything to hold on to if you fall."

"I don't know… I think I can handle that." His hand reaches out and he places his palm on my shoulder like he had done in the days we still got along well.

"I doubt it. You barely survived last time."

He stops walking. There's a very scary gleam of mischief in his eyes and instinctively I know what he's going to do. I grab on his arm tightly just as he pushes me into the pool, causing him to go down with me. We both yell in surprise as the water slaps against our skin and since I've been doing my laps at a regular basis these days, I immediately adapt. I swim to the surface easily and realize with horror that his bad leg had somehow started to betray him again. He's been flailing for the past few minutes a few feet away from me and I feel a sickening dread when his body eventually floats up the surface.

"Fuck!"

I swim to him easily; he's lying so still I don't know if he's still breathing. There's blood seeping through a nasty looking cut on his knee. His face looks so still I don't know if he's unconscious or if he's just faking it. Either way, I hook my arm under his chin and I try my best to pull him out of the water. It wasn't a graceful rescue that could have been included in that disgusting old television show about lifeguards. What was that? I vaguely remembered Blaine telling me about it, but I never paid him much attention. I stumble a lot and almost slip when I quickly scramble to sit beside him.

"Goddamn you." I mutter, breathing hard. Why the hell isn't he breathing? His eyes are still closed and I press my ear against his chest to see if he's still breathing.

Now his entire upper body is shaking.

What the…

"I can't believe you fell for that."

He's laughing.

I realize his trickery too late, he's laughing at my expression and I slap his cheek angrily.

"Don't fucking do that to me again." I hiss, mustering up whatever dignity I had left with my clothing stuck to my skin. I get up and smooth my hair back from my face, grabbing a spare towel nearby.

His laughter dies quickly and he struggles to get up.

"Hey, I was only kidding…"

I swat his hand away, "You can't do that to me!"

I'm yelling at this point. I'm actually yelling at him. I don't know why I'm this angry, but I am. I want to strangle him with this towel. I want to push him again so he'll fall into the pool again. Let him swim his way out.

"Come on, Kathryn… Why are you being so uptight?"

"You… You stupid moron!" I shove him away from me; applying enough strength just enough for him to stumble but never fall. "That wasn't funny!"

He rubs his chest, wincing at how my nails dug in his skin. "You have to admit it was… Just a little—"

"IT WAS NOT FUNNY! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

He's frowning at me now, looking at me like I was crazy.

"You're overreacting. It was just a—"

"A what? A joke? A fucking JOKE?? IT'S NOT AMUSING! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU JUST DID, YOU STUPID FUCKWIT! GOD! YOU'RE SO—"

"What?" He challenges me, the anger is starting to toughen him up too. His gaze hardens. His fists clench. Good. Maybe he can punch himself for me. "I'm what? I'm a moron? Is that it? Yeah, maybe I am! Maybe I'm even a moron for paying attention to you again, you psychotic bi—"

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

"THEN TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU??"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

"I'M STILL HERE!"

"I CAN'T LOSE YOU AGAIN!"

He looks shocked and I stand there breathing heavily. I'm soaked, angry, and cold. I can't be held responsible for the disconnection of my mouth and my fucking brain.

"What did you say?"

I leave angrily, slamming the door as he probably gapes at me with shock.

---

I avoid him after that. It isn't difficult since I hear Annette's voice and immediately waves of disgust wash over me. I hear them talking in the other room, and then he probably demonstrates his ability to walk again because I hear her exclaim with mirth. I had been on my way out and I pass the open doorway just in time to watch her throw her arms around him as he hugs her back just as tightly. I wonder if she knows what it took to get him to walk properly again. His mysterious two week stint is up and just like before, he immediately becomes his old self again. I wonder what he's been doing all this time during those two weeks, and strangely enough, the question that persisted more in my head was if he had ever told anyone this secret. He hasn't told the twit, but he hasn't told me either. What does this mean?

I blink and continue walking briskly, my purse clasped firmly in my hand. I try to drown out their voices and then I realize that they've gone quiet. They're probably kissing. She's exuberant that he's back to the gentle, loving boyfriend who had been the hero, the stupid knight in shining armor who idiotically took a hit for her. She loves him; he loves her. They're happy together. Once again perfect. Now they can take walks without his cane. Does she know how he's done it? Does he tell her how he suffered with me nearby, urging him to take another step even though he eventually hates me for it? Does she know that I was the cause of this miracle? Does she know that I am partly to be thanked for this?

No. Because maybe my stepbrother's actually ashamed of me. Maybe now that he's associating himself with his love and his stupid happy blonde girlfriend, he doesn't want to taint himself with me. Was that it? Was that why he ignores me just as much as I ignore him when she's around?

I stop walking.

I try to remember all the instances we've been remotely friendly, the times wherein it seemed like we were back the way we were.

The party. The library. You look beautiful tonight, Kathryn.

When he gave me the tickets. He left Annette inside.

When I was doing my laps.

He's ashamed to be seen with me?

Is he?

The doorman opens the door just as I hear a faint moan from where they are. Disgust fills me again. Then revulsion.

I unscrew my crucifix and take a bump when I am in the privacy of the limo.

As the haziness fills my head slowly, I grip the necklace so tightly I feel my nails dig into my palms.

---

Night fell.

There isn't much to tell. It was a Sunday evening and I had to go to school early for the student council. I don't like being the student body president but I know that I have to. It's just one of those things. You would think that given my reputation, I would be present at just about every party there was (in fact, there was one tonight that Sebastian had attended with the blonde moron) but the thing that separates me from them is that I had the discipline to control myself.

With that being said, I was currently in bed poring through my planner and taking notes for the meetings that needed to be attended to for the coming week. Sitting in a cross legged position, I frown once in a while as I fix my schedule. It's difficult being me. I rarely have time for leisure but I can assure you that when I do, I use it to the fullest extent. Adrian would attest to that statement. Once I had been so drawn out from schoolwork and the like that I needed some release. We fucked twice. I came thrice.

Anyway, it was actually eleven in the evening and I was making the last adjustments when I hear the door open. Since there is only one person in the world who had the audacity to do such a thing (actually there are two, the other person was my mother but she's rarely ever here), I don't even look up to see anymore.

"Didn't you go to that party?" I speak casually, jotting down a note or two about a charity event I was yet to organize. I'm trying to pretend that nothing happened and I'm hoping that he would never even mention it again. It was nothing, a momentary lapse of judgment. There must have been something about the stress of helping the bastard walk that caused me to say what I've said. It didn't really mean anything.

"Didn't feel like it." He continues walking out and opens the doors to my balcony. Like before. When he started to do that, we had been fifteen. I asked him why he persisted on bothering me when he had his choice of balconies inside the ostentatious residence but he said he liked the view best from mine. I glance momentarily at him but I can only see his back, along with the smoke that started to float up in the air in gray wisps.

I finish with my notes and neatly arrange it on the table, pausing in front of the mirror to brush my hair. I don't pay any attention to him, and neither does he to me. He just continues standing there, looking out as he puffs on his cigarette. Normally this would have unnerved me, but he had done this in the past so there was a certain degree of familiarity and even a strange sense of ease with having him standing there even though he's not talking to me.

I turn off the lights and slip in between the covers, curling to my side while I place my hand on a second pillow in front of me. It doesn't take a lot of time for me to start feeling drowsy. When I do, he comes back from where he'd been standing. His presence is like a warm shadow. A ghost. He presses his palm against my shoulder lightly and I don't open my eyes. It's like he's placed another layer of blanket over me because a sense of security engulfs me and places me into an even deeper sleep.

It was then that I realized there was no shame. I briefly wondered if it was the way I felt about him, if things were like that now. I never showed him any affection while we were in public and mainly seduced him when it was needed because doing those things out of nothing else but simply the urge to was unheard of. But no, he isn't like that. There are some things we hide not because we're ashamed of it, but because there are some things that are too complex to ever reveal to people without it being misunderstood and condemned.

Was that why he doesn't talk to me when she's around the way he sometimes did when it was just the two of us?

I'd like to think it was.

* * *

A/N: As much as I would like for the tone to be lyrical and poetic (very much like that Sebastian POV An Unlikely Story), I'm struggling to remain in character since this time, I'm trying to think with Kathryn's twisted head. So… Yeah. Sorry, I'm pretty beat. Hope you guys enjoyed this one. 

Katie: That's your favorite chapter? Aww. It's nice to know I still have it after all this time. Haha

B: Haha, yeah stupid I thought you had abandoned me. Where would I be without your reviews? … Okay, I would still be this mad genius writer but still! Hahaha, only kidding. Hey, here's something funny. You know that line you said you liked from the last chapter? The one where he says that he knows she can't get stuck in the middle of a crowd because chances are, she'll pass out and that she needs space to function well? That's me right there. That's how I really am. ;-D

Everybody else-- Thank you for reading it, I promise to reply more next time but as of right now I need to sleep. Badly. I'm sick, you see.


	6. Sextus

_My eyes remained dry. I felt my features turn stony. _Now I have to live_, I said to myself, _because I am alone and nothing can hurt me any more.

-"All But My Life" by Gerda Weissman Klein

If my act of aiding my stepbrother to recovery has convinced you that I have a soft side, then I might ask you to reconsider that notion. While I do have my moments of, well, as my stepbrother placed it, having something that resembled to an actual human heart (which happens very rarely), I will also have to make you realize that the darker side oftentimes wins over those fleeting moments. Nobody gets to where I am without possessing my qualities. I am hated by very few people (mostly victims whose impression of me I don't really care for), revered, feared, and respected. As I've mentioned earlier, this is why I don't give Annette that much thought. Sure, she's read that stupid journal wherein my faggot stepbrother wrote all the secrets I'd let him know. What else has he written about me there anyway? I must read it one of these days. I do have a right after all, it _is_ about me.

How do I know there are some things there that are about me?

It's a long story, so you can just skip this part if you'd like to.

Before Annette came into the picture and when Sebastian and I still got along (he still didn't have that moral stick up his ass), there had been some sort of game between us. It was harmless fun that usually consisted of dirty tricks and efforts to make each other look less composed than usual. I had that ever eternal and seemingly impossible quest of trying to read that stupid journal of his he spent more time with than he did with anybody else (even me) and since he seemed to have it attached to his hip, I usually tried stealing it while he was asleep. Since I had grudgingly given him a key to my room when I was—

No, never mind. You probably shouldn't know that about me. I'd like to paint a perfect picture of myself to you and since I'm the one telling the story, you really can't have any say in it.

As I was saying, I had given him a key to my room (actually after I… Well, after the incident happened he had stormed into my room with a steely glint in his blue eyes while he used that 'Don't-fuck-with-me' tone that meant he was not going to allow me to argue with him. He calmly asked me for the key and I lacked the strength to protest. I think I always knew that he was somehow right with what he'd told me after that thing happened) and since it was unfair that he could open my locked doors and I couldn't open his, I demanded one from him. It may seem trivial and ludicrous, especially since we lived in the same house but at the time it seemed necessary and almost… natural. He'd glanced at me for a few seconds and said that even though he had the key to my room, he respected the fact that I had my own fair share of skeletons in the closet and that he would never venture into it without asking for permission. He told me that if he gave me the key to his room, I would have to give him the same courtesy. I nodded. He asked me to promise him. I said yes. He believed me. I found the key on my table a few hours later.

I seldom found the need to use his key since he always opened it for me when I knocked and when I did use it, it wasn't for something sinister or mean spirited. He had been my partner back then, I was never worried about that. I used it for purposes that would probably seem so unlike me that it would even make you smile. But don't. Please. Don't make me nauseous.

But if you must know, I used it a week before my birthday and around Christmas time. He always did know what to get me, the problem was that I was too impatient to wait and he liked torturing me by making me wait. I also used it when I was feeling cheeky like when I wanted to grab the journal from him while he lay sleeping. Sometimes I'd catch him with a woman and yet the knowledge that he'd given his key to no one else but me emboldened me enough to continue. I'd creep up as quietly as I can and he'd have his journal tucked under his pillow, and no matter how tired he must have been, he'd always manage to wake up and stop me just in time. When a girl (a bedmate of his) first caught me, she'd looked shocked and then awed because most of the time, the ones he'd bedded either knew me or knew of me. Mostly it's the latter, but no matter what case it was, I always reminded them that I was his sister and the lie slipped easily from my mouth. Well... It hadn't been a lie technically, but I wasn't really his _sister_.He immediately woke up and slapped my hand away, mumbling something in his pillow as he resumed his sleep.

Sometimes he'd let me get as far as actually grasping it while he feigned sleep, but when I was about to either open it or make my escape, he'd grab my hips and plant me on top of him as a provocative comment escaped his mouth. When he was in a bad mood, he'd just push me away. Not too hard, just a shove that meant he wasn't in the mood right now. When he was feeling affectionate, he'd grab me and wrap his arms around me tightly while I protested and tried to struggle against him. He'd hold on tight for a while and then eventually let go long enough for me to glare at him and complain that he'd wrinkled my clothes or messed up my hair. He knew I didn't mean it, although sometimes I did. Once he wrinkled my dress when I was about to meet Mother for lunch and I smacked his head.

One time, I snorted too much and boldly ventured into his room at two in the morning on a Friday night… Or rather, on a very, very early Friday morning. He'd come home from a party an hour before, complaining of a headache. I hoped he'd taken something for the pain that made him feel drowsy so I could finally be able to read his journal. When I got in, I found him lying down fast asleep, the steady rising and falling of his chest made me notice the fine sprinkle of blond hair on it. Like baby angel hair. He had the blankets half thrown on his body, exposing his upper body as he continued to rest. When I tried to contain the silly giggles that threatened to escape my seemingly independent mouth, a small sound escaped it and he moved slightly. His other hand scratched his thigh (it seemed almost erotic I felt myself go slightly red) and the blanket lowered and to my surprise, exposed a white page of his opened journal. Actually, half of a page. The other contents were hidden by a large pillow and the rest of the blanket. I didn't see much from where I stood. I only saw my own face (or the upper half of it) staring up at me in an expression that made me look almost… sad. I wondered where he got that photo. I walked closer and noticed the words 'My love' written on the top part.

I would have laughed my ass off if it hadn't been his journal, but it was.

I couldn't help smiling at that. It was probably because of the ridiculous amount of coke, but this large smile just swept over my face. I've had urges to fuck him before, but that night was one of the instances that the urge grew to an almost unbearable ache. He loved me. His love? I was his love. Nobody else. Just me, despite who I was and what I've done.

You can imagine how my curiosity doused the arousal that had begun to make me grow warm, and I was as eager as ever to find out what else he'd written in there. When I reached over him to grab it, I suddenly felt his arms around me as he expertly pulled me over to him. I shrieked in surprise and expected to land somewhere hard and uncomfortable (like his body and his bones), but instead I landed perfectly on the soft mattress.

"Sebastian!" I'd protested, and it would have been a stern voice had my stoned laughter not given it away.

His other hand quickly grabbed the journal and closed it, slipping it deftly under his bed. Sensing the beginnings of a struggle I didn't even know I was making, he quickly went back to holding me tightly in a bear hug that made me feel his silent laughter as it made his chest shake.

"Hi." He said, burying his face in my hair. I heard him smell it.

"My love." I smiled again, his ugly scrawl filling my head with the memory of that half a page. I felt lighter than I'd ever been, it was as if I was an entire world away from everything else and I just had this feeling that I would probably float away if he released me. My back was against him and he tensed, knowing all too well that I would probably start flailing to free myself.

I don't remember much of that night to tell you the truth. So even if I'm sharing this private memory with you, it will be as how I remember it and yet it isn't what had transpired in its entirety.

"What?" he asked, kissing my shoulder. I didn't speak for a while but I took his hand and kissed his wrist in return.

"Little Kate." He replied in a gentle voice, still deep in tenor and yet almost… Sweet. I wondered if his headache went away. I deplored nicknames. Absolutely hated them, and yet I allowed him to call me that. Sometimes his older cousin Conner called me Kate, too. But this was very rare since we rarely spoke as much as we used to. Somehow it sounds different when it comes from Sebastian. He called me what when I was feeling fond of me or especially nostalgic.

"You love me." I said this again and again, reliving my own face looking up at me and remembering how he'd labeled me. Instead of struggling like I always did, I probably surprised him by pulling the covers over my legs. Our legs brushed against each other. Slightly prickly against smooth. It made me itch, but it wasn't unpleasant.

I felt him tense. He was silent for a few minutes and I turned to look at him. He peered into my eyes and frowned slightly, ever the worried brother.

"Are you high?"

"You love me."

"What are you…" He started to speak but I simply smiled at him. My head was full of thoughts that made me happy, but these thoughts I can't exactly say. I can't remember them. It's like bits and pieces of colors that hold a particular sentiment or memory, whether or not it was the downfall of a person I disliked or some childhood memory I only remembered in my subconscious, it didn't matter. It all molded into this feeling I had, this feeling of mirth and joy and maybe even fondness.

"You read it?" his voice was doubtful, as though he couldn't believe I was happy because of that.

I held up my thumb and forefinger millimeters from each other, "Just the half page."

Strangely, he looked relieved. I don't know why, but it seemed as though for a second there he had been scared.

"Sebastian, do you feel that?"

There was that feeling again, that feeling of slicing through air without anything weighing me down. I wanted to take him with me.

He smiled at me. I remember realizing how I liked his smile.

"Feel what?"

I closed my eyes and tilted my chin up, placing my hand on his arm, the one that was wrapped around me.

"Floating. Weightless." I pause, "Something else… But I don't know what."

It took him so long to reply I thought he'd fallen asleep but when I opened my eyes, I saw that he was in deep contemplation. He looked at me, then down where he held me, and nodded.

"I do."

"Want to fly with me?" I spoke like I was eight goddamn years old. I couldn't help it.

"Where to?"

He indulged in my nonsense childish ramblings; every so often there would be a little smile peeking from his mouth. Somehow I knew he'd tease me about this some other time and that I'd suffer a lot when I'm in my right mind again but that seemed so far away at the time.

"Not here. Everywhere? Somewhere without…"

"Court Reynolds?"

"Somewhere without everything else." I replied seriously even though what I just said made absolutely no sense. I touched his mouth and then pressed myself closer to him. He's so warm. Handsome. Perfect. The angel I'd awoken.

"I love this." I mumbled, yawning. "I like kissing it, you know. You have the best mouth."

He looked surprised at my comment, but then he smirked. He knew I was out of it.

"So do you." His eyes strayed downward to my mouth, then my breasts, which were now almost exposed due to the sheer slip I wore.

I noticed this and grinned coyly, nibbling on his ear.

"Do you ever think about being with me?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

He hesitated again and I began scratching his stomach lightly, almost in an absentminded manner that vaguely reminded me of how wives are to their husbands when they're really comfortable with each other.

"It varies."

"On what?"

"Well, no. What I mean is, sometimes I see us in different places and…" he opened his eyes. There was a mischievous gleam I knew well. "in different positions."

"With different people?" I teased.

He shook his head emphatically, "No. None of that. It's just the two of us. I like it better that way."

"Tell me your favorite out of all your kinky fantasies."

"It's not kinky… At least, not my favorite one."

"So tell me about it."

He hesitated again. I asked him why.

"You'll mock me."

"I'm stoned and I'm cuddling against you. I think, dear brother," I yawned again, trying to fight the grogginess. "that you'll have the mocking rights in the morning. I might even forget some of what's happening right now. I hope I do."

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Why not?" I pouted. I blinked. I put on my wide-eyed innocent and hurt look. It would have worked better if I weren't high.

"It's a secret, sis."

"I hate it when you call me that."

He narrowed his eyes at me and leaned closer until our mouths almost touched.

"I already know you love me anyway, and that's an even bigger secret."

"You're such a brat when you're stoned. I won't even be surprised if you stuck your tongue out at me."

I did. I licked his lip. He pulled me closer.

"You love me." I said again. I don't know why the hell I kept repeating it.

He kissed me and I didn't push him away.

I vaguely remember telling him something and I also remember how happy he'd looked. I don't know what I said, and I never found the courage to ask him.

I pushed down his boxers and he pulled my slip over my head. He kissed me like he was taking his time savoring how I felt and tasted. I did the same, knowing all too well that this momentary pass of the lack of boundaries was very fleeting and I would most likely regret it in the morning. I remember… His hand. His fingers slipping into mine. I remember feeling him harden. I remember the heat and the blush that crept up my face and the desire blazing in his eyes. I remember him over me, his arms resting on the mattress.

"I wish this had been under a different circumstance." He told me, his jaw clenching. "I'm not going to do this with you. I don't want you to regret anything."

I felt sad but I never told him. It wasn't a sentimental sort of sad, it was more of that unnamed feeling that rested within me. Somehow restless. Somehow… discontented.

I wish I could tell you what I said, but I can't remember. It was a mixture of words and weariness but as I murmured the words to him, I do remember very clearly how I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his neck.

We fell asleep with me nestled contentedly against him. He might have told me something right before I dozed off but I couldn't hear him. I don't know if I had dreamed of it or not.

I woke up two hours later cursing myself. I left his room and hurried into mine, where I examined myself in front of a mirror. We hadn't fucked, but I felt awful. My head felt like he had banged it against the wall as I slept.

For a few days after that, I'd catch him looking at me with an odd look of disappointment in his gaze. It bothered me to the point wherein I could close my eyes and still feel his stare even though he wasn't there. It was like he was seeking answers I couldn't give. I felt awful and stifled. It needed to stop. I locked away his key and called Conner, who was visiting. Conner and I had always gotten along and while he was similar to Sebastian, I think he was more like me than his cousin. Conner Valmont, an equally dangerous predator to women. Opposites. Night and day. He had the blackest hair I'd ever seen and possessed a charming pair of almond shaped dark eyes. He and Sebastian were pretty close and I used to wonder why he never tried to get me in bed. Later on I realized it was probably out of respect for my stepbrother.

It was perfect.

Conner had entered my room and I wasted no time in jumping him, telling him how much I wanted him. The boy never had a chance. He had me against the wall, my legs wrapped around him while he fucked me.

I was in the middle of screaming "Harder!" when the door opened.

Sebastian took one look at me and closed the door quietly.

He never looked at me that way again, nor did he treat Conner the way he did before this happened.

I felt horrible. Just for a moment. Conner continued fucking me and then he kissed my forehead afterwards.

_"I don't regret it." _He said before he left. We remained good friends after that although we never slept together again.

The funny thing is, I didn't regret it either.

It took weeks before Sebastian talked to me again and the incident was never mentioned.

Three months later school let out and a week into the summer, he met Annette.

---

I've gotten off the point. I apologize, it isn't that I don't have control over my own thoughts, it's just that there are times when it's easy to get carried away by old ghosts.

It would be easy to tell you that after that night, things had been like before. It wasn't. It's still strange and awkward because of that stupid pool incident.

I can't lose you again?

God. Did I fall too hard that I got my brains scrambled and I'd gone stupid?

He's not as rude as he was before, although there was the occasional greeting every now and then. He mostly kept to himself or just went out with Annette, but almost every night before I went to bed he'd walk in and have his smoke out on my balcony. I never talked to him. I didn't want to talk about what had happened. In fact, I'd prefer that we just forget it.

Annette, however, isn't completely oblivious.

She watches over Cecile cautiously, never really talking to me but never failing to give me dirty looks whenever our eyes meet by chance. She had gotten him, but he still protected me. I think that pisses her off more. I don't know what it is he told her but she never made any move to reveal what she'd read about me to anybody else.

Her glares made it apparent that she still loathed me despite this. Sometimes I'd give her a smile. That angers her more.

Doesn't she see that no matter how hard she watches over the poor little naiveté girl, I will get to Cecile anyway?

I smile again behind my hand, tilting my head just enough to send her another bright grin. Annette's seated beside Sebastian and her blue eyes widen in surprise before giving me a death glare. He immediately picks up on this and our eyes meet.

Despite the accident and the chaos that had ensued, I am still very adamant on destroying Court Reynolds. Although my displeasure of his cruel rejection had lessened to an only mild irritation after everything that's happened, I never do things halfway. I'm going to ruin my ex-boyfriend's life if only to send the simple message that I am not a woman to be fucked with. Not even the accident and the stupid bet can change that.

Cecile Caldwell is just a casualty and a price I was all too willing to pay.

Sebastian knows me too well. He knows the look on my face when I was expecting something to happen, something of my own doing. His eyes begin to narrow and instinctively he looks around, searching for Cecile as though to confirm his suspicions.

She's not around.

Annette takes his hand and whispers something to him. He nods, glancing at me and then back at her.

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, I lean against Adrian's shoulder as I turn away from them with another smile on my face.

I glance at my watch discreetly, almost impatiently. Really, how long does it take for Court and Mrs. Caldwell to find the dear koala bear shirt wearing, legs spreading Cecile as she fucked dear old Ronald on school grounds?

You're wondering how this happened. It's simple. I made it happen. Helping Sebastian walk isn't the only thing that occupied my time, you know. It's amazing to know that once Sebastian opened the doors to young Cecile, the girl couldn't get enough sex. Granted, she and Ronald were _in love,_ but really… Who could resist a little kink once in a while? After I talked to her about it (I still remain as her very dear friend since Sebastian had somehow shut the blonde hick up), I told her that she needed to spice things up with him since I surmised that their relationship is about as bland as Mother's taste in music. She was hesitant at first, and then agreed when I told her I had once done it and it was the best sex I'd ever had. Moron.

Ronald was easy. How could he turn her down when no sooner than when they met inside an unused classroom in a building that was undergoing a renovation, she started sucking him? Hmm. Brilliant girl. I told her that would shut him up. It did.

A few feet away, I hear the doors open and slam shut. Court stomps out, followed by a crying, half naked Cecile and Ronald; only Ronald had a split lip and a bewildered look on his face. The old hag Caldwell wasn't far behind. She was pinching Cecile's hip so hard I thought she would break the skin. They were all screaming at each other, completely ignorant to the fact that they had an audience.

"My God." I gasp as the rest of the school looked scandalized. Court and Ronald started fighting while the mother and daughter idiots started screaming and yelling. Ronald's pants fell, exposing his now flaccid cock.

I had to bite the insides of my mouth from laughing my ass off. I did manage an affronted look and I looked away, feigning disgust. But I wasn't really. Ronald wasn't really my type but he did feel good inside of me.

"What the fuck is that?" Adrian started laughing as well, and when I looked around to watch the others, I saw a very familiar broad shouldered young man with a shaved head and a rueful smile. His sunglasses hid his eyes but I knew it was him. From the way he leaned casually against a deserted table to the way he smiled.

"My God." I say again, only this time the surprise is genuine.

Conner smiles at me and then raises a hand to wave. I hadn't spoken to him in ages. He cocks his head toward the four fighting idiots making total asses out of themselves as the security and the dean eventually comes to break them up. He removes his sunglasses and inquiringly narrows his eyes.

_Yours?_

I nod. This time the smile is genuine.

I stand up and forget all about the lives I've ruined, on my way to meet with him when a vice-like grip tightens around my head.

"You cruel, conniving bitch." Annette snarls with such venom I almost wince. Almost. I don't though.

I put on an innocent expression, "Excuse me?"

"I'll ruin you. You've destroyed enough lives as it is." She continues quietly in a deathly calm voice. She thrusts something in my hand before leaving and I was about to go after her to give her a good slap for grabbing me so roughly like that when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't."

"You have no right to order me around." I snap at Sebastian, "She threatened me! I'm going to have to deal with her, you know that."

"I'll talk to her."

"You can't do a goddamn thing if she's after me." I unfold the paper Annette had given me, thinking it was some sort of note or proof of something I'd done to show Sebastian that his girlfriend wasn't making an idle threat.

Only it wasn't.

I find my own face looking up at me. My love. The half page I had seen so long ago was now whole, and it was only then that I realized why he had been scared when he realized I'd read it.

His face pales when our eyes scan the paper.

Deceitful. Bulimic. Coke problem. Bitch.

There was another page under it.

He tries to grab it from me but I jerk it away in an ungraceful manner. I stumble backwards, my own eyes widening in horror.

Another photograph of me sleeping with the words "I'm a bitch!".

"Kathryn…"

I let out a breath I never realized I was holding in.

I continue reading. My feet feel like they've been cemented there. He thinks I'm a deceitful whore. Dirty. Disgusting. I make him ashamed to be related to me. I had no capability to be kind; there wasn't a single shred of humanity in my body. If I died I would go directly to hell and right beside Satan.

He tries to grab it again, and in doing so he allows himself to be vulnerable. With a shaking hand I slap his cheek so hard a few people turn to look, but I'm past appearances this time. Adrian tries to talk to me but I give him a look that plainly said to fuck off or he'd regret it. He leaves quickly and Sebastian just looks at me. There's a red mark on his cheek.

I brush past him without saying another word. I didn't know what to say. I was shocked and horrified to see what he'd written about me, and it had only been two pages. What else could he have said? There was more. I hate my curiosity and how it seemed to twist the knife deeper. When I was a few feet away from Conner, I begin to lose it. I stumble. I've never stumbled before, but I do that now. It seems like I'm not myself. I'm too appalled and disillusioned to care.

"Hey." He says, his voice deep and warm. His eyes survey the situation. Then me. He doesn't ask me if I'm okay. He knows better than to ask that.

I look back at Sebastian then back at him. He's watching us quietly. The expression is unreadable.

Conner comes closer and his hands are hesitant when he reaches out to touch my face. I wonder if my eyes are glazed over.

"It's okay." I say quietly. Resignedly. "You can touch me, Conner."

He does. I almost lean into his touch. Almost. I don't.

Someone who doesn't think I'm a dirty bitch.

It feels good. Gentle.

Foreign.

Safe.

* * *

A/N: Okay, before you all attack me on this, (in case you do). Conner isn't a Mathieu, but he isn't a Parker either. For those of you who don't know what a Mathieu is or who he is, he's a very scary hot French man in one of my other stories who had been Kathryn's fiancé but was very evil and conniving in his own right. Parker, on the other hand, is the nice guy who was Kathryn's in a different story. I promise. This isn't also a very interesting story, so go read something else. Okay, I'm kidding. But this isn't the twisty kind. I tend to avoid things like that although I suppose with me you'll never know. I will say this: He does have a purpose. Don't worry. When have I ever let you down? Thank you for those of you who are reading this and I'm glad you're liking it so far. I'll try not to mess up.

Till the next chapter then. No fixed amount of chapters although I'm aiming for fourteen.


	7. Septimus

_Of all the seasons winter befriends me._

-Vienna Teng

"So," Conner stretches out his legs languorously, his sharp features and prominent jaw moving as he gave me another smile. His skin is paler than it has ever been, even whiter than mine. I've met some of Sebastian's relatives and at first I thought they were all generally like him, which I had to admit they were… It was like being in a Ken and Barbie show for WASPS. Except for Conner. That's how I noticed him at first. Being the son of a Spanish duchess and Daniel Valmont (Edward's older brother), he mostly inherited his mother's features. Even though Edward's brother was good looking, he didn't have the right to complain. He hadn't exactly been on the losing end of the gene pool lottery and in his youth had often been featured in a number of photographs in the local tabloids for his debauchery with some of Spain's most eligible women. He mostly resided in Madrid but you can never tell from the way he spoke. He had the accent of a man who grew up around the world, meaning each place he'd spent his youth in had shifted and formed a distinct way of emphasizing his words as he expressed himself. The way he walked also varied greatly from how Sebastian walked—

Wait. You must think it odd that I'm going into so much detail about Conner. I find that I have to, I want you to see him as I see him. You will find that your life is duller and mine is better because of him. I rarely say it, but he is more than a fuckbuddy. He isn't like Adrian or Court or whomever I decide to date. There is a whole new classification for Conner. You can only imagine the elation and relief I've felt when I saw him that day. Of course, he probably knows that by now. He doesn't talk much, but he knows how I think.

As I was saying, the way he walked was different. In New York everybody always seems to be in a hurry but when Conner walks, it almost seems like he has all the time in the world. A confident stroll. An observant look in his dark eyes. Slightly full mouth. That's another Valmont thing he had. When I was younger I had wanted to end up with him.

Conner was hard to know. Hard to figure out. I suppose he's like me, which is why I seem to get along with him well. When I first met him he barely spoke a word to me. I thought he was a pompous snob but later on I found out that when he did speak, people _listen_. He chooses his company well, but he's especially selective as to whom he really converses with. He's one of those people whose eyes express more than what they could say, but he's almost as equally gifted with words, as Sebastian was when he talks. Given his familial background and an almost obscene amount of wealth, he could sweet talk a woman into stripping and running around an entire city naked.

Come to think of it, I think he did that once. To some American actress whose name escaped me, but I caught a glimpse of it on the cover of a tabloid when I was walking around, trying to figure out where I would shop next.

Once, my cousin Cassidy had chanced at meeting him when she was visiting with that faggot looking guy (his name started with a J but I quickly forgot) and she felt so jealous that he paid more attention to me than to her. It's not my fault she pales in comparison to me. But I think Conner slept with her later on, although he never did confirm my suspicion. The night before Conner left for Barcelona, we all went to a bar and while my stepbrother and our gay friend brought their own dates, Conner and I didn't have one. It was alright, it wasn't like I was lacking the means to get one, but surprisingly enough I was fine with it. I asked Conner if he slept with Cassidy and he just shrugged innocently. I got jealous and asked him if he liked her better than me and then he wrapped an arm around me and kissed my forehead while the blonde he'd been eyeing slid into the booth next to him in an attempt to catch his attention. Sebastian caught this and went back, looking mutinously suspicious of us. I had smirked and smiled coyly before sliding my hand up his thigh.

It was one of the better moments of our relationship. He had liked the attention back then, even craved it.

_"What was that?" he demanded over the loud music, ignoring his date as she proceeded to dry hump some loser on the dance floor._

_"What was what?"_

_By then Conner had gotten preoccupied with the blonde and pretty much left us alone, although I think I saw him smirk back at me like he knew that his cousin was jealous._

_"Was he hitting on you?" Sebastian glared at me like it was my fault, his eyebrows scrunched up and his pressed white shirt was slightly damp from the humidity of the room._

_I grinned, enjoying his envy. "Why so angry, big brother?"_

_My hand started stroking his inner thigh under the table. He blinked and was distracted before he regained control again._

_"Come on, Kathryn. Not him."_

_"Why not?" I paused, glancing at Conner while he danced with the girl. "He's hot."_

_Under the dim lights I saw his entire posture stiffen. He opened his mouth to say something else but seemed to think better of it. He grabbed my hand under the table and pushed it away angrily like a little boy who was throwing a tantrum. Sebastian turned away from me and was about to go back to his date when my arm shot out, as if on reflex, to yank him backwards. The V.I.P area's design had pulled back curtains and I tugged the restraints free so it obscured us from view. I felt his damp back press against me when he lost his balance but instead of being angry, I wrapped my arms around his neck._

_"Are you mad?" I murmured in his ear, kissing his forehead like I had done something wrong. Of course, I knew I hadn't but I didn't want to spend the rest of the night being glared at. I also figured I might need a favor from him one of these days._

_"Let me go."_

_"Tell me you're not mad at me."_

_"I have to get back to my date." He tried prying my fingers away from his shoulders but I held on tighter._

_"Oh… You're angry at me?" I put on my little girl voice, widening my eyes for the full on hurt and innocent effect. He'd turned his neck so he could look at me as though he was wary._

_"Let. Me. Go. Kathryn."_

_"It's cute that you're jealous," I smiled and pressed my cheek against his hair even though his hair was slightly wet from perspiration. "It shows how much you're crazy about me."_

_"I am not." He paused, "On both counts."_

_"Conner's really hot…" I continued, staring at his tongue as it licked his lips. "But you know that I prefer you."_

_He blinked and then smiled, his anger forgotten. I kissed him and we made out for a few more minutes, at least before people started getting suspicious of how our place was suddenly all covered up. It was a powerful mashing of intense lip locking and tongues, our hands exploring each other's body heatedly as we fought to make the most out of the time we had. When we heard his date's voice getting louder, I quickly shoved him away and wiped the smeared lipstick from both our mouths. He had touched my cheek with his palm and smiled that half smile of his._

_"Promise me you won't fuck him." He asked in a quiet voice. "Please."_

_I promised._

_I meant it then._

"So…?" I repeat, playing dumb. I fidget with my hands and my pleated skirt, smoothing out the creases that I imagined where there.

"Would you mind telling me what the hell went on earlier?"

"Would you mind telling me what the hell you're doing here?"

He laughs, rubbing his prickly shaved head. "Come on, Kate. Why the third degree? I practically rescued you from there."

I've never had female friends, and as you may very well guess, I just find it better to forge relationships with men. Actually, here are three men who have my trust. Well… Two now. Conner and Blaine. The other one you can probably tell whom already.

"Rescued?" I reply haughtily, having regained my composure. The now crumpled pieces of paper had been stuffed in my bag, I'm hoping it'll disappear from there. I never want to touch it again. It's like poison. "I see you haven't lost your arrogance."

He won't let go of it, "You may elude your idiot boyfriend with that attempt to deviate from the topic, but you should know by now that I'm very different."

"Yes. You're actually better looking than most of them, and that's saying a lot since I have high standards."

His eyes twinkle, "Aww aren't you sweet?"

I give him the finger.

We remain silent for a while and I cross my legs while Conner busies himself with preparing a drink from the mini bar in the hotel suite he was staying in. I watch him for a couple of minutes, taking in the confident and smooth movements that truly made him a Valmont. He had a dimple on his left cheek as he tightened his mouth, carefully pouring the different drinks into his glass for the right kind of mixture he preferred.

"He hates me."

He stops with what he was doing and turns around, looking surprised at my subdued voice. I can tell that this was strange to him, since I had never exhibited this kind of behavior before. It was completely alien to me, too. I feel like Sebastian had just punched my chest.

"No, he doesn't."

"What would you know?" I remark bitterly, pressing my hand against my forehead. "You haven't shown your face here for months."

He hands me a drink, which I take gratefully. He was excellent with mixing drinks, but this was only because he'd spent the better part of his youth in bars and had befriended a couple of bartenders. I loved his drinks; he even made a new one that he'd named after me right before he left. Since he spent most of his days in Spain and sometimes stayed at the villa his family owned, I rarely heard from him. When we were younger we used to spend the holidays there. I loved the villa, everything seemed to be bathed in sunlight and they had the most beautiful pool I'd ever seen. That was where we spent our summer days as children.

"I'm sorry." He replies with his untraceable accent, "With the circumstances of how I left things I thought it would be best to stay away. Clearly you had your issues with Sebastian and I didn't want to complicate things…"

I raise an eyebrow as if to say _"You already did when you fucked me."_

He gets it. Just like always. "…further. I didn't want to complicate things further."

I take a sip, allowing the cool liquid to soothe me. It does, the taste is exquisite and I can't believe I haven't even craved it after all this time. Conner smiles at my reaction and sits on the couch beside me, leaning back lazily with his own drink in hand.

"You have to let me know how to make this." I reply, drinking.

"Yes, but if I do then you'll have no other reason to look forward to my visits."

"You know I have other reasons of looking forward to your visits."

"Such as?"

"How many men have I slept with _and_ still think they're worth my while?"

Conner laughs, "Good point. I can't really answer how many men you've slept with though… That would take days and a very long list."

I swat his arm, "Bastard."

I almost grin, and he notices it. His face turns serious and he puts his finished drink down. His eyes search mine inquiringly.

"There. That's better. This Kathryn I can deal with, the one earlier not so much. I hardly even recognized you."

"You've been gone a while."

"Just a few months…" His forehead wrinkles, "Have I been missed that much?"

"Not really. Blaine's been doing an acceptable job of accompanying me."

"And that guy you were with earlier?"

"Adrian?" I scoff, rolling my eyes. _"Please_."

"I know him… Vanderbilt, right? I fucked his girlfriend once. He was in the next room and we had to be quiet." He chuckles at the memory, rubbing his jaw. "I think he even got a lucky shot at me, but I let it go. I was the one who was fucking someone else's girlfriend anyway."

"Every bit of a Valmont, aren't you?"

He grins disarmingly, "Hey, Sebastian had that whole pretty boy blond haired blue eyed look on him… Unfortunately," he continues sighing disappointedly. "I didn't inherit that gene… So I make due with what I have."

"And what an unfortunate boy you are."

He nods, his handsome face looks sad except he's smiling a little. "Yes, I know. I hide the pain by being this charming."

He makes me chuckle, which is a rare feat if you absolutely knew what I am like. I look around the hotel suite and notice the scattered glossy photographs of different subjects and sizes. His camera is similar to Sebastian's, which is I guess to be expected. They're both avid fans of photography, in fact, if memory serves me correct, Conner was the one who gave Valmont his camera. While Valmont mostly used it to seduce those twits of his and sometimes dabbled in actual artistry, Conner took the interest seriously. His photographs are on display back in Madrid and Barcelona, not really because of who his parents are, but because of how brilliant he is. I've seen his work before. It was beautiful. His room in the villa had its walls adorned with his best work. When he was seventeen and Valmont and I were eleven, he took a picture of us by the pool. I think Sebastian was trying to push me in, which he did succeed in doing (I made sure I held his head underwater until he almost drowned). The photograph depicted us mid-fall. I had grabbed onto his arm the way I did when he tried to push me in after that stupid bet we'd made. It was a nice photo. I think Sebastian had a copy of it somewhere. He probably burned it or threw it away by now, seeing as how he thinks I'm an evil and conniving bitch.

Conner catches me looking at the mess and he smiles ruefully.

"They're paying for some of my work to be exhibited here. I don't really need the money, but I get to do what I want to do."

I feel my heart drop and my smile fall. He immediately catches on and places his hand on my arm, an apologetic smile on his face.

"No, I'm a week early. I wanted to visit you." His forehead scrunches up the way Sebastian's sometimes did. "I was backpacking through Europe and was virtually unreachable for a couple of months. When I got back Mama told me about what had happened to Sebastian and I got worried."

"Even though he thinks you're a traitorous jackass for fucking me?"

He waves it away carelessly, "Actually, I knew he'd pull through. The kid's too stubborn for his own good. I was more worried about you."

His eyes peer into mine and I see genuine concern in them. There's a certain delicacy in his features, obviously from his Spanish lineage. Yet, his hair bore the same curls Sebastian had. It's too bad he had it shaved. It feels prickly to touch now. It's one of the very few things he got from the Valmont DNA. He looks more like an artist when he's silent, and yet when he opened his mouth you'll know that it's a misconception. He's beguiling and conniving in his own right and I remember seeing him with girl after girl during his teenage years. He's twenty-three now but it feels like he's just my age.

His long lashes (I think that's another Valmont feature) move as he blinks and I get pulled out of my thoughts. His response made me feel all the more safe. I've always felt safe with him. I did with Sebastian as well, but when we were at our games I found it difficult to.

"You're worried about me." I say it like I don't believe it, like he's just saying it to get me to fuck him only I know that it isn't like that because he isn't Adrian or Court. He's Conner. My Conner? No. Not mine. Just someone I would like to have with me should my insane and diabolical side opt to end the world and have everybody else obliterated. I only had one Valmont to claim, and he's busy screwing me over. My Sebastian.

"Of course I am. I heard he got a girl though, was it the blonde?"

I shrug, "I hate her."

"Why?"

"Because she's the exact opposite of who I am."

"And?"

"And I want to take a fork and stab her eyes."

He laughs and takes the drink from me, "Okay, you're not having any more of that."

"Hey!"

"Kathryn, when you get drunk all thoughts of reason flies out the window. The last time your logical side died, you called me up and practically assaulted me when I came into your room." He shrugs, smiling. I almost blush when I remember what happened. The moaning, the touching and the friction. _Oh, God. _The fucking _friction_. "Not that I minded… But you know. I don't like making things harder for you and Seb."

Seb. A childhood nickname long died. I never call him that anymore. I never call him anything anymore.

Mmm. Go past the guilt and Sebastian. He's insignificant now. I remember that day. How Conner's hair had been longer, his face didn't have the stubble it did now. I loved those dark curls. I loved the way it framed his face. He felt good against me, his mouth on my neck, his hands slipping under my skirt... Yanking my panties off roughly like he knew it was what I needed. There was no hesitance. He saw it in my eyes, no regrets. Zero pain. Morphine in a handsome man. I never told him this but when I was eleven I chanced upon him fucking a beautiful lady who was moaning words I couldn't understand while she rocked against him, her head thrown back and her beauty almost made me envious of her. I had felt myself blush when I saw his buttocks, and felt myself even redder when I saw his penis when they switched positions. I wondered what it was like. Sex. Him. His white skin had been flushed red and he was panting and sweating exhaustively, his eyes were closed shut. He looked exquisite.

I wanted to know what it was like.

That day I stopped wondering. When he slipped into me I realized what possessed that girl to yell in another language. I'm not going to lie to you, because even though I had a different yet nonetheless strong attachment to Sebastian, Conner was like one of those unanswered questions that plagued my mind for ages. When I had finally slept with him, the answer came. That's why I didn't regret it. While I was with Conner I never thought about Sebastian. I didn't allow myself to think about him. One image and I wouldn't have been able to continue.

"You…" I pause to think, "Why the hell are you being this perfect? Seriously Conner, why? I mean, you have this side of being a pigheaded asshole to women, and yet you're being like this."

Another tug of his mouth. It's a smile. An amused one.

"I'm not perfect. I don't know shit." He scratches his head, "When I wake up every morning my hair looks like someone sneaked in and fried it with a curling iron. That's a bad thing, since when that happens and my hair's too long, I begin looking like a girl."

I reach out and rub his prickly head, "You were better looking with your curls."

"Liar. I saw the way those schoolgirls at Manchester Prep were checking me out. You know I look good either way." He takes my hand gently and squeezes it. There's humor in his eyes. "So? What happened?"

"Why do you have to know?"

"Because you were crying in the car."

"No, I wasn't."

"Come on, princess." He coaxes gently without sounding patronizing. I wonder how he does it. _Princess_. He and Sebastian share custody of the nicknames I have. Sometimes Blaine called me princess, but he never called me Kate. I wonder how Conner knows how to approach me even though we haven't been able to talk for a while. "Don't bullshit me."

Wordlessly I take the crumpled papers out of my bag and hand it to him. He pauses before he takes it and I watch his reaction while he reads the pages.

There's surprise. Then confusion. Then anger.

He hasn't finished reading the second part yet but I think I've proven my point. I place my hand on his arm and he crumples up the paper, throwing it over his shoulder in disgust.

"Conner," I say faintly, my mind is already filled with revenge schemes and curse words but I lack the strength to pursue their usage. At least, not right now.

He looks at me. His face is set in a quiet rage. He's indignant on my part.

"It doesn't define who you really are." He answers, "It doesn't mean anything. Sebastian can be an asshole sometimes, okay? It doesn't mean that—"

"I'm glad you're here."

He stops talking before he smiles.

---

Later that evening I turn on my side; my eyes are closed yet my mind is very much awake. I had snorted a line to help me relax, but I don't. I can't. I wonder what happened with them. I feel ill at the realization that blondie's made her own copy even though Sebastian expressly forbade her to do so. I hope they're having a fight. I hope that he pushes her off a cliff and she carries him with her so they'd both be one mass of broken bones and blood. Conner had stayed for a couple of hours before he got a call from the gallery but before he left he kissed my cheek in passing (almost automatically) and told me to call him (and not that '_stupid dick Vanderbilt'_) in case I needed anything. Except sex he'd joked. The way he said it made me tingle. What is it about that man that makes me horny even though I've just experienced a very wounding betrayal yet again?

I keep expecting the door to magically open even though I've locked it, but it doesn't. Everything remains silent and all I hear my own breathing.

Then it comes. I hear the knobs turn. He tries it. Once. Twice. Sebastian stops. I can sense his hesitance.

He knocks. Even his knocks aren't as assured as usual.

I don't reply. I gaze into the darkness and then at the outline of the phone.

"Kathryn, open the door."

I ignore him.

"I'm using the key." He calls through, persistent as always. But I hear his voice shake slightly. He's as uncertain as I am unemotional.

That gets my attention. I leave the warmth of my bed and rifle through the dresser to find what I'm looking for. An ornate looking silver key. It feels cold against my skin, but I clutch it tightly. I feel nothing now, almost numbed. Like when Conner fucked me. There are no more angry tears to shed, I'd absorbed the betrayal fairly quickly. There is nothing but old suitcases to be thrown out.

I hear him insert the key (my key) and it opens quickly. He enters the room, his handsome face looking remorseful and… something else… What was that? I didn't know. I didn't want to look.

He opens his mouth.

I don't care for his words. He's good at them. No amount of literary phrases will make me forget what I've seen.

I hold out my hand and his face changes its expression.

"Take it." I tell him, my voice is flat and emotionless. Like my eyes. My heart? I don't mean to sound dramatic. I've run out of emotions to feel. "I've no use for it anymore."

He shakes his head slightly but I take his clenched and empty fist and shove in his key, making sure to press the sharp edges against it so he'll hopefully bleed.

While his other hand is clenched, the other, the one holding the key to my room, seems to have a loose grip. I snatch my key from him and place it on my dresser.

"Go." I continue, my tongue is as dry as desert sand.

He blinks. Like it's a test. Like I'm fucking toying with him again. I've gone past toying.

"I—"

"No." I cut in, turning away from him. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything. Don't apologize; don't explain. I don't care."

His eyes leave the point where it had been fixed on the floor and he looks at me, "Tell me we're even… Tell me that you forgive me for that, and… and… I'll forgive you for what you've done. We can do that, okay? We don't have to fight… You don't have to hurt anybody."

The fucker was bargaining, throwing the past to my face as though it would make me suddenly melt and brim with forgiveness. He doesn't understand. All I see is my own picture looking up at me. All I see are the words 'bitch' and 'slut'. All I feel is _shame_.

"You weren't supposed to read it." He continues quietly, unaware of my rage.

"Fuck you. We're not even. I don't accept your apology and I'm not offering my own for what had happened. The accident took your leg but I helped you get it back. The accident turned you into a pathetic moron who jerked at the sight of passing cars, but I led you away from that. I helped you even though you told me I was a dirty whore not because I felt guilty but because you were my…"

Brother? No. Lover? _No_.

I'm completely stumped as to how to complete that sentence so I backtrack.

"So no, Valmont. We're not even. Don't try to get back into my good graces just because you're scared of what I'm going to do to that bitch. I should have dealt with her a long time ago. You can't stop me. You can't do a goddamn thing to me anymore."

"You can't hurt her." He pauses, looking determined. "Please, Kathryn… Don't do this. She's harmless, she's not going to do anything… You don't know what she's going through—"

His voice has an edge to it. Protective. I feel jealous that now he's protecting her the way he protected me before, but it quickly dissipates when I recall his scrawls.

"Now you've resorted to begging. One minute you were guilt tripping me and the next you're pleading." I hold up the key I'd given him, "Do you see this? You don't deserve it anymore. You've forfeited your rights of asking for mercy the moment you sided with her. I'm going to screw that bitch over. I promise you that."

"I'm not going to let you." His voice has a rough edge to it. He sounds tough. He's a worthy opponent, but then his blue eyes convey some sort of desperation. Some sort of regret. I feel the same way.

A long time ago, I felt everything he did.

"We'll see, big brother. Goodnight."

I climb into bed again and turn off the bedside lamp. I curl away from him and he eventually leaves.

* * *

A/N: Wow, thanks for the positive feedback. I'm glad you all like Conner, I'm trying to give him as much depth as I possibly can. Katie, sorry he's not going to be like Mathieu. In order for me to create another character like that I'll have to quit school. Haha. The last time was insane. Oh, and Parker was a blond. See? You remembered the dark haired dudes more. Lol 

As always, I'm very tired so I suppose a big **THANK YOU** to everybody will have to suffice. At least, until the next chapter. Hopefully I won't be as tired and I'll be able to reply properly.


	8. Octavus

_You don't need my secret midnight calls,_

_I guess you need no one_

_Is anybody waiting at home for you?_

_-_Train_  
_

_ When in war, there must be no other thought that is not related to the demise of one's opponent._

This is the thought that has been running over and over in my mind like a persistent song of revenge and bitterness for the past few weeks. I was driven with hatred, and when I felt like I was slowly starting to forget what has happened, I take the now fragile crumpled pieces of paper Annette had given me. It feels like tissue paper now, softened and rendered delicate from the persistent cycle of crumpling and straightening. The words are still legible of course, and it only makes me angrier when I see it. 

My plan of attack?

It involved two thick folders filled with whatever Blaine could find on the Hargroves. If Annette really was as pure as driven snow, then perhaps Daddy dearest could be of service. I had been hoping that there was something about her past in Kansas that I could have used, but I should have known luck wouldn't be with me on this one. As perfect as her hair was blonde, Annette Hargrove was on the honor roll, president of the student council, and all around do gooder back in Shitville. She was my Kansas dopplerganger, only her intentions were actually to help people for the sake of helping them and not because she wanted to look good. At least, I could only conclude that. It also included history of her past boyfriends, which only seemed to be the young and honestly a bit handsome Trevor. There were old photos of them hand in hand or smiling openly for the camera kept in my file. Blaine had been thorough. He probably sucked Greg's dick for an hour for that.

Trevor was good-looking, although he doesn't hold a candle to Sebastian, or Conner for that matter. In that aspect I understood the switch Blondie had made. He also had blond hair, which he kept cut neatly. His attire seemed to be limited to collared shirts and khaki pants, a preppy moron if I ever saw one. He wore eyeglasses, but behind it his eyes were green. They've been together for a year (at the time) and knew each other since they were children… Blahblahblah. I wondered if Trevor jerked off thinking of Annette after she'd claimed to save her virginity for the right one. Did he get horny when he touched her?

I was a woman driven mad by the desire to see them burn in hell. Weeks passed and I slowly drowned into their lives, I knew every detail about them. Mother and father divorced just before they left for New York, blahblahblah… Aww. Poor baby. Did her large blue eyes water with tears when the lady Hargrove packed her bags? Maybe the lady of their farmhouse left because she realized that her daughter was a boring prude and her husband was an old and balding moron who was about as sexy as a rotting corpse.

I was busy rifling through the files, scanning every word and every photograph for the tiniest crack I could drive the nail into. Although I still excelled in school and did all my responsibilities with adequate competence, nothing else occupied my mind but the Hargroves. Adrian has been left behind, Cecile has been forgotten. Conner's…

Well, he left for home two weeks ago, saying he needed to attend to something urgent. I didn't pry. I wasn't even paying attention to him either, I was too busy barking orders at Blaine to find out every single thing you know about them. At whatever cost. I lost weight. I didn't need to throw up. With all my extracurricular activities and my almost obsessive need to formulate some sort of scheme to regain my control over the situation, I simply forgot to feed myself. I simply forgot about everything else.

It came to a point wherein I realized Conner was gone only a day after he left. He'd kissed me on the forehead and hugged me quickly. I remember feeling his warm body against me, his arms wrapped around my waist tightly like he knew I was about to slip and obsess after he left.

I missed him terribly.

Did I miss Sebastian? Not so much. We'd even built a schedule so that we wouldn't have to run into each other. Sometimes I'd catch him looking at me and sometimes it was vice versa. There's a dull ache in my head when I watch him discreetly. Like I'm asking that blond haired blue eyed young man who he was and what he'd done to my stepbrother.

We'd both had our locks changed. I didn't trust him enough to keep the old ones still intact and it was the same for him. He knows the look in my eyes when I'm planning something and the fact that he's already gotten a warning that his girlfriend was next probably motivated him to keep his guard up as well. They have the leverage, and while I'm annoyed at that, I take it in stride. This is why things must be planned meticulously. I plan to win. Whatever it took.

I hear their voices faintly outside my door, but I don't strain to listen. She's probably complaining about something trivial, "Why don't you want our future house to have a picket fence, dear?" To which Sebastian would reply "Oh I'm sorry sweetheart, you can have whatever you want. I have a lot of money and it's all yours because I'm such a pussywhipped loser my sole purpose in life is to be pathetic."

Her face looks slightly puffy from when I'd seen her at school, but then again, it could just be that hideous headband she wore. Tsktsk. Have you ever noticed how we sometimes see people with disdain and it makes them look worse than they really are simply because we hate them too much? If I only had such an ability. Annette Hargrove would make that fat girl in school look like a fucking anorexic.

I toss Annette's file away from me with disgust, sighing when I brush my newly cut bangs from my forehead. My stomach grumbled and screamed for some sort of nourishment. I think at this point it would have even taken fast food. Ugh. I ignore it and grab Dean Hargrove's file. I scan it easily; frowning as I realize that he was as boring as his daughter.

Excellent teacher… Blahblahblah… Got divorced last year… Left work because of incident in school…

Wait. Incident? I continue reading the newspaper clippings Blaine has gathered for me.

If I can't take Daddy's girl, then I might as well take down the daddy.

My eyes are sharp. It sees a crack. Mmm. Why, Dean Hargrove… You sly, old dog.

As if to celebrate, I unscrew my crucifix and take a rather large bump. I've been having a lot of those these past few days.

That proves to be a mistake.

I see spots now. Literally. My vision feels blurred, but still I persist. It's another one of those goddamn dizzy spells I've been getting for the past few days. My skin's a sickly pale yellow now, and my nails have started splitting.

I grab the phone to place a call to a certain Alexa White from Kansas before another wave of nausea comes over me and I slump against the table, blinking rapidly. Trying to squelch that feeling. To get rid of it somehow. I am Kathryn Merteuil and not even hunger will end my perseverance.

My cell phone rings in the midst of this internal fight between my organs and my frustration and I fumble to answer it.

My answer is garbled and I shut my eyes tightly, breathing in and out with great effort. Maybe my insides have begun to feast on itself in madness. I might have said "Hello" or "Conner" but it came out like I had just vomited the two words together.

I hear him suck in a breath sharply, his concern already reaching me all the way from Madrid.

"_Mierda,_ Kathryn!" he curses loudly, and I hear a female voice in the background, which he addresses quickly with an apology. "What did you take? I told you to control it!"

"Unh…"

The spots are glowing brighter now. The room seems hazy, like in a dream. I stare at my arm like I had only seen it now. Had I always been this thin?

I hear him frantically reaching for something, and then his voice goes from angry to worried to scared.

"Call Sebastian," he instructs, his voice is strained. Like he's afraid for me. "he'll help you, you can't just wait for it to pass."

"No!"

My organs are clenching into one big fist ready to bust out of my body in desperation.

"DO IT!"

"Fuck you, Conner."

"Fine." He snaps, "I'm calling Blaine. If he's not in the area, I'm calling Sebastian—"

My only answer was another grunt.

"Stay on the line with me, okay? Just… Just keep listening to my voice… Try not to pass out… Did you snort a line earlier?"

I give a gasp.

"Fuck… Okay… So you did… I'm not going to ask any more questions right now but you better tell me everything when I get back… Just… Stay there. Stay with me, okay? I'll talk to you until Blaine—"

He pauses and I hear him yelling at Blaine through a different phone to come get me before returning to our conversation.

"Okay, Kate. Five minutes… He said five minutes… Just breathe… Try not to close your eyes… Can you open them? Just keep blinking if you have to."

I nod even though he can't see me. I'm shaking now, and at that point I knew I couldn't wait five more goddamn minutes. I gasp as the pain intensifies further and I end the call, hastily stuffing the files in a drawer I clumsily locked with shaking hands. I didn't need Blaine to save me; I had a driver on call 24/7 for crying out loud. If I could just reach the intercom downstairs I could call him to come up.

I am half bent over, my arm against my stomach as I open the door. Of all the people to bump into, I actually hit Annette. She had been talking to Sebastian when I slammed into her just as my knees buckled and my vision blurred further. She gives a surprised yelp but Sebastian quickly catches her.

I am not so fortunate. I hit the floor hard, slamming my face against the wooden tiles. I would have instinctively held out my hands to shield myself but everything about me was slow at that point. Lack of food and an abundance of cocaine and alcohol. Real smart, Kathryn. What was my plan? To pass out in front of my enemies?

I wanted to shoot myself.

"Oh my God!"

She used the God's name in vain. Tsktsk. Of course, I would have had this thought with a smug smile had I not given out another scream of the pain in my abdomen. I cough loudly like I had something caught in my throat and blood comes out on the floor. I am disgusted. One minute I was the evil and threatening one and the next I was on the floor coughing up blood while they stood in front of me, probably just as disgusted as I was at myself.

I don't know what happens next, all I know is that suddenly I was being lifted up. My bloodstained lips had something pressed against them. His hand? He'd wiped the blood away. Warm. Like always. I cough again, squirming and thrashing and half screaming my voice hoarse from the multiple sources of my physical aching.

Insomnia. Alcohol. Drugs. Yes, what a good choice indeed.

I open my eyes and I realize that he'd held on to me tightly, that we were in his car and that I had started crying. I was fucking horrified. He looks at me and I quickly jerk my neck away, but he shakes his head slightly. The stick shift was poking me but I didn't care. With almost something akin to awe, I discover that my body has become so tiny I was about to fit without that stupid stick hurting me too much.

"I understand. It's not real. The tears aren't real. Don't hide it."

His cell phone rings and he answers it distractedly, only when he realizes who it is I feel his entire body stiffen the way it did that night we were at the bar. He presses the phone against my ear while he swerves to avoid the passing pedestrian.

"Conner." He says curtly.

"Blaine called me and Annette told him Sebastian's with you so I called…" His voice trails off. I hear him cursing in Spanish again, and it sounds like he's pacing. In a hurry? I almost smile. The very image of him in a hurry seems almost unrealistic. His concern warms me. I wish I loved him. "Never fucking mind! Listen, princess. You're going to be okay… I can leave you with him now, he's going to take care of you alright?"

"No!"

The horn of the Jag beeps loudly. I cough again; the blood is still there. I even get some on Sebastian's shirt but he stops for a moment and instead of trying to get the stain off, his takes out a white handkerchief to press against my lips.

"Stay awake." He says. "Whatever you do, just stay awake."

My two Valmont men, the knights in shining armor who were always saving me. Sebastian is about as tense as he's ever been, and part of the reason why I didn't want to get off the phone with Conner was because it might mean that we'd talk and I didn't want to talk to Sebastian.

"Kathryn?'" Conner repeats, sounding anxious.

"Yes."

"Good." He sounds relieved, "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. Your voice. Doesn't matter about what…" I mumble and Sebastian's busying himself with driving. Conner talks about random things, about how Madrid has changed since I last visited and about how I would love the latest in the fashion industry there.

It remains like that for the rest of the ride until we get to the hospital, where Sebastian snatches the phone from my hands. He says something to Conner and slips the phone back in his pocket.

"Stretcher." I mutter.

Sebastian shakes his head and steps out of the car. He opens the door and lifts me up easily; I keep his handkerchief near my mouth. The blood has corrupted the cloth in its color. Finally, I see his eyes looking down at me.

"Don't fucking do this to me again." He tells me almost harshly just as the emergency unit arrives to take me from his hands. As I am transferred to the stretcher, I hold out the handkerchief to give back to him. I didn't want to owe him anything.

He reaches out and takes it.

His hand is trembling.  
---

I wake up a day later and find Conner asleep on the sofa. His stubble's gotten thicker now; it makes him look older. Like he's less of the Conner who'd fucked me against the wall and more of the man who'd yelled at me through the phone while he attempted to ask the help I was too proud to ask for myself. I'm tempted to wake him up because I had wanted to see him for the longest time. I wanted one of his drinks. I wanted to him to look at me the way he did.

But I let him rest. I figured he was tired. He stays like that for a few minutes and eventually his eyelids flutter as he rejoins reality. He blinks and rubs his eyes wearily and for a moment or two I just look at him without saying a word.

He doesn't berate me, nor does he go on a ranting rampage the way Sebastian would have probably done. In fact, Sebastian had already done something like that when I almost OD'd last time. He'd spent about five minutes yelling at me before asking if I was okay.

"You're taking it too far." Conner tells me quietly.

"I have to win. I… I have a plan."

Something sick and wrong and twisted and filthy… But it will work. It'll make me a dirty whore but at least now Sebastian's journal was more accurate.

He's staring at the table beside me, where the pitcher of water was. I briefly wondered what he was looking at but when I sit up, I understand immediately.

There's a bloody white handkerchief neatly folded resting on the tabletop.

I delay telling him my thoughts; he looks tired, worried and still very handsome. Just looking at him emboldens me. He doesn't stand up to go to me, as though he is lost in his own thoughts. I briefly wondered who the female in the background was when I called him… A girlfriend? I felt jealous.

"Who was that you were with when you called?"

Deviate from the topic at hand. Anything to make him forget the look in my eyes when I told him I had thought of something. I still wanted him to believe I was, in a sense, pure.

"Kathryn, please don't take it too far."

"It's already gone too far."

Yellow cab. Slam. Blood. Journal. Shame. Slut.

He sighs, "You can still talk to him."

"Has he been here?"

He hesitates and wonders if he should lie to me but thinks better of it.

"Yes… Just once."

"How long did he stay?"

He scratches his jaw, "I don't know… The nurse said just ten minutes or so. He seemed to be in a hurry."

_"Don't fucking do this to me again."_

"In a hurry to go back to her." I sneer with contempt to hide the disappointment I felt. I sit up and massage my neck, trying to take out the cramps that had formed during my sleep. He finally sits up and approaches me, placing his hands on my shoulders. He gently squeezes it, carefully applying the right amount of pressure. He doesn't say anything about the sudden visibility of my bones through my skin alarms him. I hear him murmur something in Spanish to himself, but I couldn't understand it.

"Be very careful." He whispers instead, his voice laced with genuine concern I wanted to kiss him just to feel something pure and real in my life.

"I always am." I answer confidently, trying to smirk but failing because then he places a kiss on my shoulder. Just a small one. It isn't romantic by nature but for a moment or two I entertained the thought that it was.

"I won't always be here."

"Yes, you will." I pause, "In one way or another."

He strokes my hair thoughtfully, "I'm taking away the coke."

"No, you're not."

"If you don't quit, I'm leaving. It's that simple."

An ultimatum? This is too early for that.

"Conner, it isn't that easy…"

"Yes, but you have to start somewhere." He takes my necklace from me, where someone had emptied it earlier and wrapped it around my wrist. I wonder who did that. Was it Blaine or was it Sebastian?

"I'm having this fixed. It's not going to be hollow anymore when you get it back."

I admire his skin as in contrasted the platinum of my necklace. I touch the familiar beads carefully, then his arm. He doesn't react. He lets me touch him. He's just watching me, observing me, wondering what I'm thinking.

"How long will it take for that to happen?" I ask wearily. To make something hollow not hollow and have it stay that way.

"I don't know."

"Good answer. I thought you were going to sugarcoat it for me."

"I know you too well to even try."

He gently pushes me back against the bed and strokes the side of my cheek affectionately. His eyes seem to be as dark as night and I wondered what secrets it held. Did it reflect mine? Did we have the same amount or was mine greater and far more sinister despite my young age?

Another train of thought for another time.

I sleep with dreams of blood stained white blankets wrapped around me. The blood keeps me warm and safe and I feel so peaceful and drowsy I begin to drift off in the strange world. It is only when I had closed my eyes that I realized the blood keeping me warm was mine and that the reason why I was drowsy was because I was dying.

It was too late to fight then.

I was gone.

* * *

Once again, thanks for those of you who like this story. It's the first of its kind so I'm glad it's been accepted well. ;-) 

Sophia: Don't worry, I know I don't exactly have a great track record of finishing stories but I do assure you I intend to finish this one. ;-) I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!

sands-agent: Muchos gracias for the review! The depth thing? Ah, prepare to be amazed! Lol, only kidding. I'll just try my best to dig deeper.

sdakerrigan: Aww thanks for the nice and highly political review.

Celeste: I'm loving Conner as well, and I don't know if I'll kick him out or I'll have him stay. Guess you'll just have to wait and see. ;-D

B: You know, these few words of yours alarm me. I can only hope that it's a good thing you have such a seemingly strong reaction to it?

Katie: Hope you got insanely and childishly excited with this one as well? What a nice thought it is to have a document of my words in someone else's hard drive... It's actually quite surreal and flattering at the same time.


	9. Nonus

_A song that no one sings_

_The unattainable._

-Slipknot

Conner comes out of my bathroom and everything smells like sandalwood. The scent immediately soothes me in my weakened state, and despite the fact that I had grudgingly been confined to bed by a collective agreement of both Conner and Sebastian, the latter only taking part in this by simply saying that I would be stupid to go forward with whatever twisted scheme I had in my head if I looked like I would pass out at any given minute, I can't get myself to even glower at him. I watch Conner the way I would watch a certain person whose life I planned to ruin. Every detail about his movements are taken in, his dark eyes in its almond outline, his strong arms bear no tan line whatsoever. I remember how he'd picked me up that day, how I felt lighter than I'd ever been. Like I was suddenly nine years old and as light as paper.

I remember his back. How come I'd never mentioned this before? His back with the very faint remnants of scars like it had been placed there to mar his otherwise perfect alabaster skin covered body.

_"Conner?"_

_"What is it?"_

_"Can you come here right now? I… I need something."_

_  
My voice slurred. I was intoxicated at three in the fucking afternoon. For what? Because of that blond bastard who won't stop looking at me like that. Like he wanted something! What did he want from me?? My promise to love him eternally??_

_I didn't know what he was to me!_

_Minutes passed. I paced the room restlessly; all I ever saw was Sebastian's blue eyes staring at me. Waiting for answers. Waiting for an explanation to something I don't remember ever happening._

_The door opened and I stopped in my movements like it was a goddamn movie. Time doesn't stop. It only builds up, like heat. The warmth burned within me. His eyes probed into mine as his eyebrows knitted together questioningly._

_God, he was beautiful. More beautiful than Sebastian and I combined._

_Conner, Conner, Conner… Like an aphrodisiac easy to say, smooth on the tongue. Like a drug to help troubled women who wanted her answers._

_"Hi." He spoke quietly with his unique accent. His hair was longer than Sebastian's, its curls larger as it framed his face sweetly. It adored his chiseled face like I did as a young girl._

_My friend. My only friend?_

_In my drunken state I watched him blink and for a split second I found a pair of blue eyes staring back at me. Wanting me. I remembered the bed and the drug and the half page. My Love._

_I also remembered the questioning glances. What are we, Kathryn? What am I to you? Pounding in my head, making it hurt. Blurring the lines. I've no need for emotion. Too much burns._

_I slipped out of my heels and he entered the room, shutting the doors behind him discreetly. His movements were still slow. Did he know what I was about to do? Like he's giving me ample time to be hesitant, to really think about it._

_My heart pounded. The liquid courage did nothing for me. With Conner I never really knew, he was like me, remember? There was always a risk of rejection. He was fond of me, yes. He acknowledged my beauty, but he never attempted anything to own me. To have me, even for a day or a few minutes. His back was turned to me, he had on a dark green long sleeved sweater that fit his body the way all sweaters should fit bodies of perfect men._

_Sebastian. My Sebastian. Please get out of my head._

_I walked and came up from behind him, slipping my hands underneath his clothes. I felt the taut stomach contract and tighten, but he never gasped in surprise. Maybe he knew. He didn't show any resistance and merely removed his hands from the door handles. He stayed perfectly still while I caressed his pectorals, my breath warm and signified the ingestion of vodka._

_I kissed his neck and felt his soft hair tickling my cheek. Silently I begged for the sex. For the fake lovemaking. For the numbness of rough fucking._

_He turned around and I had him pinned against the doors. My hands moved to unbuckle his belt and our eyes never strayed from the other when I heard the silver buckle click. His eyes studied me, still with his own secrets that I would never all know._

_When he moved, it was with unspeakable grace. I flinched from the gentleness when he tried to touch my face. His expression changed… And then he understood._

_He grabbed my shoulders in a manner very unlike him. Feral. Animalistic. He slammed me against the wall, reversing our positions. When he kissed me open-mouthed, he bit me savagely. Like he knew I needed it. I moaned in his mouth and his hand cupped my breast under the bra._

_The blue eyes in my head slowly faded away._

"Thanks for letting me shower here. I have to meet some people who want to talk to me about another exhibit in a month or two and I didn't have time to go back to the hotel."

I nod wordlessly, and then my frown returns when I realize that his perfect pale skin had been mutilated by the existence of a tattooed back. His entire back was covered with the swirling, almost tribal pattern of dark ink. From this angle it looked like wings. Or maybe it was just me. It covered the scars now. The scars I never knew the reason behind.

"What the hell did you do to your back?"

He smirks, "What? It's nice."

"You look like a prisoner with a fuckbuddy named Buck."

"Oh, and you have a right to go around assessing people. You look like an overused prostitute with hepatitis."

I cringe. Prostitute. Whore. Slut. _Shame._

He immediately looks contrite while he slips on his clothes. I politely turn away when he puts on his underwear even though I've seen him naked.

"I'm sorry." He comes up to me and kisses my cheek, only I turn at the same time because I never expected it and his mouth lands on mine. It's slightly cool, but his lips are soft. I wanted more, but we are interrupted with the door opening.

Sebastian's always had such impeccable timing. The bastard.

He looks surprised and then his face returns into its neutral mode.

"Can we talk?" he asks me in a distant manner, barely pausing to nod at Conner. Sebastian's eyes roam the room, noticing Conner in his half dressed state and how I am on the bed in my nightgown. I know what it looks like, but I never bother correcting him. What did he care?

"Come to bury me alive, have you?" I reply as Conner pulls his coat on, having quickly finished dressing.

"Nothing so dramatic, Kathryn." Sebastian replies coolly, his eyes like a fortress of ice.

"Would you mind if I spoke to her alone?" His voice is harsh, but Conner doesn't seem to be affected by it. Nothing fazes Conner but when he gets angry, you had better watch out.

"Go ahead, I was just leaving. Would you like to have dinner with me? I have something important I want to say—"

I smile weakly, my body still unaccustomed to the regular feeding of food.

"She can't go out yet." Sebastian interrupts, looking me over. I must look like a bag of bones at the moment. Alexa White from Kansas would certainly have to wait, not that I wanted to hear about the dean's affair or anything. I'm sure details of that nature would further nauseate me.

"You don't own me." I hiss, glaring at my stepbrother.

"You threw up blood all over the fucking floor three days ago, Kathryn. Are you seriously considering of going out at this weather nonetheless?"

"Your concern is indeed very touching." I remark sarcastically, looking at Conner for help but he only smiles at me complacently. Sometimes I hate his silence. Conner kisses me again, this time on the cheek before he leaves. I wish he hadn't left. Now I'm stuck with pussywhipped asshole over here who probably wanted to torture me some more with the embarrassing memory of me puking blood.

"Well?" I tell him pointedly, "Out with it then."

"You can't hurt Annette."

"Yes, and while you've presented a very good argument I'm afraid it's just not negotiable."

I_ grasped Conner's erection and felt its strong masculinity twitch at my touch. His head fell back and he groaned with that perfect full mouth._

_"Now." I whispered, feverish with the intensity. Sebastian was forgotten._

_He pulled my panties off roughly and jammed his cock inside of me. I moaned again at the sensation, at the completion of being filled by a man I had lusted for ever since I learned the meaning of lust and its unrequited side. When he began moving, I rested my head on his shoulder, licking the skin there. Tasting Conner._

_"Harder!" _

_The door opened and Sebastian stood there. It was sudden, but I saw his face fill with pain. He looked at me like I had done something horrible. Like I was the monster. He looked at me like he loved me and I completely fucked up his heart._

_He turned away and closed the door._

"Kathryn, you know I have the upper hand. When that journal gets out your reputation will be worth shit."

"So go on then. Take advantage of this," I motion over to myself and my weakened body. Corrupted by the hatred and drugs. "Release the goddamn thing. I'm even curious as to how else you've described me… You've always been such a good writer."

I'm bluffing. I have no fucking idea what I'll do if that happens. He doesn't talk. He only looks at me.

"In fact, why don't you give me my own copy? I'm sure I'd like some bedside reading about how much you really hate me."

"Or how much I really—" He stops talking. "Forget it. You just assume too much."

"Did you come to pester me with your presence or was there something you needed?"

"Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if I had never come across that article about Annette?"

I'm surprised at his question but I don't show it. "Yes."

"Me too."

Silence follows that.

"You and Conner?"

"What do you care?"

He doesn't speak for a while, still looking me over. And then he does that thing. That intent looking into me thing he's always done before when he wants to read me.

I should stop looking. Stop letting him read my secrets, but I'm not giving him the satisfaction. Even as I let him stare at me, I can almost tell what he's thinking. All the questions he's asking. Conner. Who was Conner to me now? I remember things about Sebastian's cousin at that point. How he came back. How he touched me. How he looked at me.

We both know it. Something was changing within me. His expression turns from apathy into disbelief. His pink mouth opens slightly.

"You're falling for him." He whispers in surprise. "Kathryn…"

"I'm not."

"How?" he asks, still with that almost shocked and pained look on his face.

"How what?"

"How did he do it? How did he make you feel like this? He never even tried…"

_And you did? _

He looks so stunned that I don't bother trying to lie anymore. Conner with his shaved prickly head and his pale skin and scarred, tattooed back.

"It's easy." I reply coldly, "Now you see why I never fucked you. Now you see who's the better man."

"The better man? You think he's the better man? You don't know him!"

"And you do? You've never even spoken to him since he got here!"

"I know that he's sick! He is! The scars on his back? He does that to himself!"

Smooth scars camouflaged by black ink. I refuse to believe he's doing something that weird. Maybe it was because of a rough childhood. Did Daniel hit him? Was that why his eyes were infinitely filled with secrets I never knew the nature of? Was it his mother? Was it someone else? A nanny he'd had as a boy? Was a fucked up childhood behind the pretense of perfection?

"I can't believe you'd resort to something so low." I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. "Mud slinging is a very unattractive trait, especially since I have plenty of equally filthy things to say about your girlfriend."

"When you fucked him that day," he snaps, clearly starting to get angry. "You didn't ask him why he had welts on his back? Didn't you run your nails down the skin? Maybe he enjoyed that. He's a fucking masochist, he's a sick and twisted masochist who—"

"SHUT UP!"

"Why? You can't stand it, can you? You had him built up in your head as this perfect god. Perfect Conner, always liked by everybody. Your _hero_. Would you like to know why he thinks you're still sweet and innocent behind that dirty whore persona you've taken to heart in being? He's all for things that are fucked up and wrong."

I have a temper as short as a matchstick and he knows it. Despite my weakened state, he manages to provoke me. With something that seemed like adrenaline (or rage) running through my veins, I stand up and poke his chest harshly. He has no right to say all these lies about the only man who would never screw me over!

"And what's _your_ explanation for playing house with Barbie? You're all for things bright and bubbly and secretly slutty?"

"Annette's more of a woman than you'll ever be." He retorts coldly. "She's more of a _human_ than you'll ever aspire to be, Kathryn. She has morals and values, whereas you… You would never know the meaning to that no matter how much money you spend on these stupid charities of yours. You don't understand it, do you? You're the charity case. You want to help someone who really needs it? Take a good long look in a mirror, princess. You may be beautiful, but you're fucked up in ways I cringe at."

I slap him before he can react, but he stands firm. He doesn't have a reaction; he only takes it numbly.

"This is how it's come to?" I ask faintly, immediately feeling the strength leave me. Sebastian's staring at me and I can tell that his cheek must sting right now but he doesn't even acknowledge the pain.

"You and Conner deserve each other." He says harshly, "You like giving pain and he likes receiving it."

"That's why you're angry with me? Is that why you're saying all these fucked up things about Conner?" I can deal with him telling me I was a whore, after all, that fucking journal of his had anesthetized me from his harsh words. But Conner? What has he done? Fuck me? Was that it? Did that hatred stem from a boyish resentment because his cousin had gotten to me first? I refuse to be turned away at his coldness. He had become distant now, he even looks at me like I am a stranger. "What is this? Are you jealous that I'm feeling this way about him?"

I am as shocked at my response as he is because immediately after that I feel very nauseous. I groan imperceptibly, clutching my stomach while I stumble a little.

Like a grudging machine, a routine that is done even without the fondness for it, I feel his hands on my shoulders. He steadies me, although he still appears distant.

"Kathryn." He says my name quietly in a tone that forces me to look at him.

He leads me to the bed and I don't put up a fight. Pride be damned, I can deal with that later.

"What?" I snap, trying to shrug out of his grasp.

"You promised me you wouldn't."

My upper back slowly gets lowered on the mattress, and he's still holding me at arm's length. Keeping his distance? I can still see his eyes, nevertheless tantalizing in its blueness. I take hold of his arms and he flinches like he thinks I'm going to do something to push him away or hurt him.

"Wouldn't what, Sebastian?"

"Conner." He replies, his eyes are on my hands.

"Who are you to lecture me on keeping promises? You said you would never leave."

_Me. Never leave me. _Only I don't say it because I know it will hold too much power and I don't want to make things complicated.

He releases me and leaves without saying a word. My mind is made up now. I would do everything I can to fuck Annette up.

---

I'm concerned as to how Conner will react once he realizes what exactly I intended to do. This is the reason why, as I detail every bit of my plan to him, from finding out about the Dean's indiscretions with a student to realizing I could use this to seduce dear old Hargrove and in turn screw up his reputation and smear shit all over the family name by crying rape, I carefully watch his reaction as it undergoes a series of changes.

"Christ." He says. That's all he says, but his eyes say it all. I wonder if what Sebastian said was right, did he really hurt himself? There was some sort of sadness in the dark depths that never seemed to leave.

"There's more."

"Kathryn…" He reaches out and takes my hand from where he sat. My heart skips a beat as he squeezes it and I realize that I feel disappointed when he let go. What the hell was happening to me?

"I'm going to need you to do something for me."

He leans and listens intently, only when I finally say it, he recoils. His shoulders jerk back and he shudders slightly.

"I can't."

"Please… It has to look real."

He stands up. He begins to pace now. Conner in a fast pace. Back straight as always, the posture utterly perfect.

"You're insane." He replies flatly, his eyes boring into mine. "How can you ask me to do that?"

"I don't trust anybody else."

"I can't do it…" His voice trails off. "Kate, please don't do this… It's not going to end well even for you… Don't you see? Nobody wins."

Even as we spoke to each other, the mere sight of his clothed back made me remember Sebastian's words. Damn him. All I felt were Conner's scars and the incessant need to find out why they existed.

Conner mistakes my silence for disappointment because he stops pacing. He even stops the drink he was preparing for himself and approaches me. His pace slows down. He lifts up a pale, long fingered hand to graze my cheek.

"I can't stay here if you're going to make me do that." He tells me calmly, "I love you, but I'm not going to do it. You can't make me, Kathryn."  
My head reels from the words said so casually, so matter-of-factly. I've never had that before. With Sebastian it was always hidden. It was always up to me to decipher it amidst the affectionate touching and the kisses that were brief but intense.

"Reconsider your revenge." There's a tone of imploring in his voice, something soft and nearly so sensual it sends a shiver down my spine. "I don't like it. I don't like how you'll get fucked up like this."

"I'm already fucked up."

He opens his mouth and then closes it. He glances at the clock that steadily ticked and spoke.

"It's late. I better go."

Conner the unavailable. Conner the savior. Conner the puzzle never to be solved.

As he gathers his coat and his things, I am suddenly acting on impulse.

"Wait."

"What is it?"

"Would you like to stay the night?"

He turns to me and then blinks, unsure.

"I don't have clothes to change into the next morning."

"I'll buy you new ones. You can get from the guest closet, there are clothes there that people never really use."

"I don't need new ones."

I told you that with him you can never tell. This is a perfect example of what it's like.

"Conner, a simple yes or no would be sufficient."

He looks glorious under this light, with his dark shaved head and hesitant eyes. Ever the gentleman. I wanted to solve the puzzle.

"I won't always be here." He says it again, like he's trying to tell me something. I didn't understand him. I wanted to, but I didn't.

"I'm not asking for always. I'm just asking for tonight."

He stares at me for the longest time, wondering what I'm thinking. When he places his coat on the nearby armchair, I pad out of the room and get him something to sleep in. I almost run into Sebastian but he takes one look at me and at the pair of drawstring pants I held and he turns away. It's a domestic scene; almost something that I thought would never happen in my room. When Conner finishes showering, he slips into the pants. It's a little big for him, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's back to his silent self, which doesn't bother me. When he slips into bed, he turns on his side. Away from me, like he's avoiding me somehow.

I watch his back. The dark ink. The scars barely seen.

I touch them. He winces and the curls away from me more. I remembered how it felt when he'd been sweaty and fucking me. How he'd been so strong then, so like a god.

The touch turns into a hesitant caress and little by little, he begins to relax.

"You know, don't you?" His voice breaks the silence. "Sebastian told you."

"I've always thought… Your father…"

"No." He turns and faces me, speaking with such conviction as he defends his father. "It's me. I did it."

"Why?"

He starts wringing his hands like he wants his attention to be focused elsewhere.

"When I do something bad, I feel so hateful that I have to feel pain. Like a punishment." He says in a quiet tone. "Sebastian caught me doing it once… I know it's sick and wrong, but it's how I am. Mama knows about it, I've had shrinks since I was ten. The scars got so bad she paid for cosmetic surgery and it got fixed… Some of it anyway. I got tired of seeing it so I got the tats. Still think I'm perfect?"

"Did you do it that day we…"

"No. I told you I didn't regret it." He frowns, "Do you?"

I shake my head.

He smiles. His teeth are even and white, his eyes crinkle warmly.

"Goodnight, Kathryn."

"Goodnight."

He kisses my forehead and I then turns away as if taking a good look at me. There's another smile. A wistful one.

"You're going to end up with him, you know that right?"

"What?"

He closes his eyes in reply.

* * *

A/N: Man, I love Conner. Haha. Thanks for reading this, people! Sorry I'll reply more next time I'm just hella tired.  



	10. Decimus

_The things we do to the people that we love._

-Bush

The next few days find me working on my plan little by little. As student body president, I had the perfect reason to drop by Dean Hargrove's office. Sometimes I notice him eyeing my legs or my breasts, but I pretend to be unaware. I'm used to men staring at me, but I can't help but secretly feel both thrilled and disgusted at the way his blue eyes would stare at me when he thinks I'm not watching. I would pout and smile cutely, I know that it will not be easy. I was the same age as his daughter was and I'm sure he felt some sort of remorse over Alexa White. She had been his student, and at sixteen they apparently fell _in love_. Alexa got kicked out of school a few months shy from graduating and since she belongs to a middle class family, she's pretty much screwed these days. She was supposed to go to Stanford on scholarship but since the scandal broke, she had no choice but to attend the community college. Hargrove never talks to her anymore, nor has he offered some sort of help. Perfect. She resented him and I needed her if ever things got out of hand. Greed and revenge. What can I say? The slut gets to attend Stanford and I get to screw with the Hargroves. Everybody's happy.

Well, I won't be when I fuck the old man but I suppose it's the price I have to pay. Normally I am able to detach myself when I have to do things I loathe for the sake of winning but not these days.

These days, I inevitably find myself being drawn closer to Conner. It's a peculiar thing for me to feel this way, like I hate disappointing him. He has shown his disapproval over it but never gets jealous when I tell him in detail about the day's run in with the dean. I painstakingly realize that I am trying my best to make him jealous, but nothing seems to happen. The more distant he seems, the more convinced I am that I have to have him. He's been busy toting that stupid camera that takes him away from me most of the time and when I do get to see him, I have thoughts that… Well, that you probably don't need to hear about. Obsession. Was I slowly slipping into him just like I am slipping into the need to make my stepbrother suffer?

There are days when I have him all to myself, and days when I don't. The latter I spend with Blaine, and when I do have him… When I do have Conner, I try my best to read him. He makes it difficult for me to. Ever since I found out about his scars it seems like he's keeping his distance. Was he ashamed of it? I didn't know. Did I condemn him for it?

I didn't. I only wanted him _more_.

"And what's up with the extra spring in those perky little steps of yours?" Blaine drawls lazily when he accompanies me to the gallery where I was to meet Conner.

"Screw you." I reply, slightly going red. I reprimand myself on the obvious eagerness, but I hadn't seen Conner in a while now.

Damn Blaine for having known me since I wore diapers. He stops walking and peers at me, noticing the _very_ _faint_ redness that now showed on my cheeks.

"Oh my God." He gasps, "You're blushing!"

"It's the weather." I growl, frowning at him.

"Why the hell are you blushing??"

"Why the hell are you being such a faggot?"

He looks at me the way Sebastian did and I quicken my pace, trying to get away from him. When I am a few feet in front of Blaine, I hear his voice exclaim.

"Holy shit you actually like—"

Thankfully, I am spare from hearing the rest because I enter the gallery and find him standing in front of a large photograph with—

Sebastian. My heart drops several rates. I resent Valmont for taking the limited time I had with Conner, I wanted him to leave. I wanted to erase his face from my memory, however melodramatic that sounds. I didn't like remembering my victims. Or soon to be victims anyway.

They're talking in hushed voices and despite my growing annoyance at the blond bastard I stop where I am to just observe them. Conner's taller than him by a few inches; his built more lean than Sebastian's. His dark hair was slowly being released from its prickly adjective and I can see the start of the formation of his curls. I loved his hair. His skin, when contrasted with Sebastian's slightly tanned one, made me question their familial relationship. Were they really cousins? How could two completely different men share something? He's motioning to the photograph, and then nods at something Sebastian says.

"Kathryn, when the hell did you become so fast—" Blaine arrives wheezing. His nose is red from the cold and his voice echoes throughout the sparsely occupied gallery. The two men I'd been observing turn to me and their expressions were the exact opposite of each other.

Conner smiles. Sebastian frowns. I wanted to smack his full mouth off.

"There you are." He says, approaching us. He tilts his head to acknowledge Blaine and I could almost see the fairy swoon. Conner kisses my cheek and I feel like shivering. I really have no idea what's wrong with me. If it had been any other man I would have immediately solved the problem by fucking him. Conner, however, was not so simple. The problem started _after_ I had fucked him.

"Where've you been?" He inquires, grinning boyishly. It makes him look our age. He's even shaved off that stupid stubble now. He looks clean and immaculate again.

"Probably off blowing some random guy to gain more popularity points."

Sebastian's nasty remark cuts me, but I don't allow him the pleasure of seeing me wince.

"Oh, hello to you too, dear brother. Actually, I was planning to do that but Annette beat me to it. The fat bitch was taking Tim Asper's cock in her mouth while that linebacker fucked her ass. She looked like she was having fun so I let her be."

He rolls his eyes, "Very mature, Kathryn."

"Very inept, Valmont. You're the one to talk about being mature. I was perfectly contented with ignoring you but you just had to make things unpleasant."

"Enough." Conner interjects and he takes my hand. I freeze. He's never taken my hand to hold. But somehow I feel reassured. Sebastian doesn't miss this. I see his eyebrows slightly rise and the muscles in his jaw tighten.

"I'll see you tonight at the benefit." Sebastian answers curtly at his cousin.

"Unfortunately." I can't help but sneer and he ignores me. As he leaves, I give Blaine a look that said I wanted him to fuck off as well. This was of course done in a nicer way than I did to Adrian.

But Blaine doesn't leave. He's busy sizing Conner up admiringly, from the almost urban hip expensive clothing that consisted of what those stupid player celebrities wore to the aviators that hung from his shirt, he gives Conner a big grin.

"Still hot, Conner."

"Still not gay, Blaine." He replies easily, smiling. His hand is still holding mine.

"Uh huh, and what a loss you are to the community." Blaine sighs, smiling. "Look how you've silenced the pretty temptress. You know, she's not usually this tame."

"Yes, I am."

They nod slowly, both of them are grinning. "Sure. You're all sunshine and rainbows like a basket of kittens."

"I resent that!"

I hear Conner laugh. I like his laugh, and instinctively I smile while I look at him.

This time I give Blaine The Look. The look that tells him to go away or I'll release that video of him having a threesome with two other girls on a drunken night. While it's nice to converse with Blaine and Conner, I want the latter more. It's like I had this insatiable thirst to be near him, to _know_ him.

He finally surrenders and leaves us. When he does, Conner begins pulling me upstairs.

"I'll show you something."

He brings me to a room filled with boxes and photographs. When he rifles through the things, I realize with utmost amazement how I would feel almost like I was cheating on him if I continued with the dean. This was new to me. I never really felt guilty.

He pulls out a photo of a younger version of myself. I was eleven and he was seventeen, his smile open and his face youthful and handsome. He had an arm around my shoulder and I smiled not at the camera, but at him. Happily. I had smiled happily. Where was Sebastian that day? I didn't even know.

"Isn't it great? I had some photos shipped from home and I thought you might like to have it. This is where I've been working, since I didn't have a dark room at the hotel."

"You're not going to charge me an arm and a leg for it?" His photos usually span for a couple of thousand or so. I wrinkle my nose and sneeze at the thin layer of dust that covered the walls, "Jesus. I'm going to catch a disease in here."

He draws closer. I see his full mouth part. A peach to bloom. Something I wanted to bite and eat and taste. He's staring at me again.

He reaches out and I tilt my neck to meet him halfway, only he doesn't kiss me. He only wipes a smudge of dirt that had somehow rested on my cheek.

"Such a delicate flower." He teases, his voice husky and deep. I immediately have images of him naked flashing through my head.

"Delicate until fucked with."

"Delicate until fucked." Conner replies, biting his lower lip absentmindedly while we walk out of the gallery and to his car. I watch in fascination at the two front teeth and almost feel like I had been the one he's nibbling on.

"True." I reply, unsure. Unsure of him. Of this. Of us?

He turns on the engine. There's a secret smile on his face, like he's remembering something.

"Very fucking true." He answers and I begin to want him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. Perhaps even the same amount I wanted Sebastian in the past.

Or more.

Maybe... Just _maybe_.

---

Is that a stray hair?

I check my reflection critically, noting the glowing eyes and the faint blush of my cheeks. My dress gave me enough of a look to pull of a small hint of cleavage without looking slutty and I had regained my healthy pallor back. No thanks to the house arrest, but I'm too busy with trying to think of a way to get Conner to be resentful. The dress fits like a glove, its green hue a slightly similar shade to the sweater Conner had worn the other day. It reminded me of him even though it was in the shade of my eyes.

Conner. Conner. Conner. I was having too much of him. I even almost forgot about trying to cozy up to old man Hargrove and maybe even flirting a bit. I didn't want to do it tonight, but I knew I had to. The things we do to win, yes?

There's a polite knock on the door before he enters. I stare back at him through the mirror and he smiles, coming up behind me. Conner squeezes my shoulders, his chin nudging my cheek.

"Look at you," his whisper sends shockwaves through me. "All grown up."

"I've grown up a long time ago."

"Yes," he pauses.

_"Guh… OhmiGOD!"_

_Mouths moist from kissing, tongues battling, passionate. A consummation that brought me to a different place. I tugged his hair and heard him moan. I raised my legs, spreading it, I wanted more of him. I wanted every bit of him inside of me because he felt so fucking _good

He closes his eyes, rubbing his jaw against my cheek. He takes after Sebastian. Hot and cold. I wonder if all Valmont men were like that. Earlier he was cold. Freezing. Now he's hot. Lust fills me. I can forget about the party and about Hargrove if I could have Conner on my bed again.

"I agree." He murmurs to my ear, running his palms up and down my shoulders. I didn't know whether to shiver or sweat.

_Fuck me._

I close my eyes and feel the warmth of his body pressed against me, even leaning my head back against his shoulder. I feel his breathing quicken and I swear I could almost feel his heart beat faster. His hands slowly leave my shoulder and he wraps his arms around my waist, his thumbs caressing my abdomen.

_Fuck me now._

"Kathryn, I…"

We are once again interrupted by a stone-faced bastard who enters my room unannounced. Rather rudely, I might add. If Sebastian had a radar for when I was around, then he must also have a different one for when I was _thisclose_ to getting Conner.

Conner slowly releases me and I fought the need to chuck something at Sebastian. Maybe break his pretty face in half.

"Conner, there's someone looking for you. She's downstairs."

She. My ears pricked at that. I quickly realize this is Sebastian's doing. Conner looks perturbed and then troubled. There are wrinkles on his forehead as he nods absentmindedly and heads outside. Curiosity overwhelms me and I follow, only to shove Sebastian when I come across him.

"That was rude." He scowls, following me. "Whatever happened to don't kill the messenger?"

"In this case the messenger should be _mutilated and killed_." I mutter, noticing how Conner's steps seemed to quicken. He never hurries. We arrive at the balcony that overlooked the party downstairs and I stop to allow myself a better look. Annette's not in the party. Hmm. Curious. Dean Hargrove's present, however. But he's far from my thoughts at the moment.

I notice the woman even before Conner meets with her. She stands out amongst everybody else, with long deep red hair and large blue eyes. She was tall and lithe. She had the kind of figure that made teen girls starve themselves. Goddamn Sebastian. She was looking at him as he approached, and although his back was turned to me, I desperately wished I could read him from there.

"You have the worst timing out of every single person alive."

"Mmm." Sebastian smirks, "Isn't she gorgeous?"

"Probably some dumb model he fucked and forgot."

"Actually, they were engaged… I think they still are, but I never got the specifics. I hate to disappoint, princess… You're going to have to get your source of loathing from somewhere else. She happens to be Senator Vaughn's daughter, a year older than Conner, graduated college early and at the top of her class."

"Fuck you."

"Now, now…" he admonishes, his tone teasing. I wanted to push him off a cliff. "No need to be so spiteful. Conner happens to be my cousin and he's _family_. I only want what's best for him so if it happens to include the very beautiful Alana Vaughn, then I'll do what I can to get them back together."

Alana. The bitch stick with breasts had a name. I was satisfied on calling her the spawn of Satan. She was talking to Conner with a serious look on her face. She had plump lips, tinged with a dark red. Like blood. She looked like the kind of woman who could get away with anything with a wide-eyed innocent look… Like someone who knew she was beautiful and used it to her advantage.

After all, it takes one to know one.

"How did you know about her?" I ask my stepbrother in an undertone even though we were alone.

"I can never reveal my secrets, can I sis? Especially since we're technically at war."

"But they're broken up though, right?"

Sebastian shrugs again, but I can tell he knows.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

He flashes me a smile, his dimple showing. Devilish. Mischievous.

"Because it's fun."

"You bastard."

"Aww. I love you too, baby."

He leans in and kisses my jaw, his fingers drumming against my ribcage. Almost sensual. Sexual? He'd always loved games. Nevertheless, I am surprised to feel a spark when his lips touch my skin. Warm. Conner's were cold.

"You look hot tonight, sis. It makes me wish I never met Annette just so I could keep flirting with you."

He's toying with me.

"Well, it makes _me_ wish I'd never met you at all."

I remain quiet while I watch them. By now I can see Conner's face. He'd led her to the bar, and she held on to his arm daintily. Bitch. I can feel Sebastian watching me.

"Holy shit." He remarks, "You really like him."

"Go eat shit, fuckwit."

I head downstairs to Conner only to catch a glimpse of him leaving with her. The bitch stick with breasts and apparently a brain. I return to my room and pull out my crucifix only to remember that Conner had someone fix it. It didn't feel so hollow anymore. Fuck it. Why did it feel lighter and emptier?

---

At precisely one in the morning I receive a call from Conner.

"Hey, princess. He says in his quiet voice. The untraceable accent of the boy who grew up everywhere. The boy who was succeeding in getting me without trying.

I should be mad. If it had been someone else I would have been.

"Hi."

He pauses, "Can I come up? I'm outside."

"Okay." Fuck sleep. I was never getting it any way.

Minutes later, I hear him knock. When he enters the room, he's still in his suit. The tie had been loosened. I think I would have been nauseous if I found something clichéd, like a lipstick mark.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"I couldn't sleep."

He seems interested and he takes a seat while I sit up the bed.

"Why?"

"It's just one of those nights, I guess."

I wanted a smoke. I wanted a drink. I wanted _something_.

"Who is she, Conner?"I pause, suddenly realizing something. "Was that the woman I heard talking while you called me that time you were in Spain?"

"Sebastian didn't tell you? I was so sure he would have… After all," he muses, smiling slightly. "He invited her, right?"

"Would you like me to have him kidnapped and locked up in a third world country? He's annoyed enough people anyway."

He chuckles, his eyes now warm. Hot Conner. Warm Conner. The one I _could_ love.

"Alana." He replies, "Alana Vaughn… We… She was…is… We were engaged."

"Why did you break up?"

"We didn't."

"Excuse me?" My voice must have grown cold because he notices it and looks at me. He sighs.

"Have you ever had that feeling wherein you just…" He buries his head in his hands, "It seemed like… I loved her, but it got too much… Like she wanted something from me… Something I couldn't give. I just… I needed something. I didn't know what I wanted. Suddenly I didn't know if I wanted her."

I know the feeling very well.

"Does she know about your scars?"

"Yes."

"Does she know what happened to us?"

"No."

"You're ashamed of me?"

"No!" He says this with such conviction I am immediately appeased. The anger that threatened to burn me eventually sizzles out.

"I'm sorry I left… We just talked… And it was… I was there and she… I missed her. We uh… We kissed and it was… It was great… Familiar… Like I was back in Madrid… How she felt… How she tasted…"

"Stop."

The thought of them being intimate made me want to hurl.

"I felt constricted. I need…"

He glances at me soulfully. Sorrowful. There are so many dimensions to this man.

"Can I stay here tonight?"

There's no hesitation for me.

"Yes."

I close my eyes and hear him going about the room. He takes clothes from the guest room and I eventually drift off to sleep. I wake up hours later, at five in the morning. There are pillows to my left and the blankets signified his earlier presence. He was gone? I felt disappointed.

When I slip out of my room to get something to eat (because I don't want to pass out and puke blood again in front of the golden couple), I notice a man in the library. The pale skin and dark head says it all.

He hadn't left after all.

He looks up and smiles at me.

"I really couldn't sleep." He professes.

He was reading a book, a novel? I didn't know. I didn't care. Quietly, I sit beside him. I wrap an arm around him and if this surprises him a little, he doesn't show it. But he doesn't push me away. He allows me to touch him. To press my cheek against his chest and play the role of someone who had never begged for the numbness of sex if only to make this situation completely innocent and almost on the borderline of that ludicrous emotion I shall never say.

"Bad dream?" He questions, kissing the top of my head.

I don't reply and he doesn't seem to be offended by it. He continues reading and eventually, I doze off.

I wake up again and it was morning. I was lying on my bed and Conner was gone. Beside me was the book he'd been reading with a piece of paper sticking out of it. Margaret Atwood.

He'd underlined the words with faint pencil lines.

_I would not consume  
you or ever  
finish, you would still be there  
surrounding me, complete  
as the air._

_Unfortunately I don't have leaves.  
Instead I have eyes  
and teeth and other non-green  
things which rule out osmosis._

_So be careful, I mean it,  
I give you fair warning:_

_This kind of hunger draws  
everything into its own  
space; nor can we  
talk it all over, have a calm  
rational discussion._

_There is no reason for this, only  
a starved dog's logic about bones._

The phone rings but I ignore it. I hear Blaine's voice mentioning about something regarding Annette but I am dead set on making one thing clear.

I storm out of the room and enter Sebastian's, where I find him writing busily on that cursed journal. As he looks up, a puzzled frown begins to form on his forehead but I didn't plan on staying long. What I plan to say was short and entirely on impulse.

"Don't take him from me."

"He's not yours. You don't have the right."

_"I'm_ not yours, Sebastian. You don't have the right to do this to me."

"Wars have casualties." He replies easily, like he'd been expecting me to come into his room like this.

"Yes… But not him. Not Conner."

"You're sure of that?"

He's challenging me now. Goading. His blue eyes are spiteful and cold.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to hurt Conner and I'm going to make damn sure that you don't do anything to fuck up what I have with him."

"Like you weren't going to screw me over? Like you weren't going to renege on the terms you had stated? What, Kathryn? You're not going to hurt him like you hurt me?"

His voice rises several decibels while he slams his journal shut. His mood changes. Suddenly Sebastian's not so calm anymore.

"Yes." I fire back with my own brand of venom. "Would you like to know why?"

"No. It's not important."

"Yes, it is." I sneer and laugh loudly. Mockingly. "You're just scared to hear why."

"You fucking _wish_."

"Oh, I wish for a lot of things, Valmont. Just not for you."

He looks so hurt for the slightest of seconds and I wish I could take it back. But I don't. When he doesn't reply, I slam the door as hard as I can.

Wishes. What was it about that?

As I went back to my room, I even wished that things had been like before, when all it took was a simple sidestep over that small hurdle that never really separated us. I even almost wished I could climb on his lap and let him hold me like he used to, when the fights we had were so seemingly intense there was nothing more to say afterwards. When it had been a time that the apologies flowed easily from every pore on our bodies and we fixed things just as easily as we ruined lives.

But there was nothing. No stupid star to wish on anymore. Now, things are different. Now, I am starting to want a different man the way I wanted Sebastian, scars and flaws and all. What did it matter that Conner did what he did? Everyone was fucked up in his or her own way.

Twinkle little fucking star. Where are you?

Nowhere. It was just a long eternity of gaping blackness that threatened to carve out my insides until I became nothing more than an ornament that was empty on the inside.

* * *

A/N: Have you ever had one of those life-altering moments in your life and at that point it makes you feel like you're finally in control of something? 

Next term I'm going to try to get into the writing program at my school. Try being the operative word, of course. I don't know if I'm good enough. It's really quite scary. Wish me luck though and if through some stroke of luck I do get in, I promise to update whichever story you guys want to read the most… Which I'm hoping is this one. Since I really like this. Haha. Anyway, I just thought you guys would know. It's partly because of the encouragements and support you guys have given me since I've been here... It has just sunk in that hey, I think I may have something to go on. Lol ;-)

Right. So on to the story. Team Conner? I'm glad some of you like him, it's quite rare for KS-ers to actually like a character that could possibly steal one of them. Man, I'm good like that. Haha. Only kidding. Till the next chapter then!

PS. Well wishers and people who are ready to dole out supportive comments are always appreciated. ;-D


	11. Undecimus

_I believe that lovers should be draped in flowers_

_And laid entwined together on a bed of clover_

_Left there to sleep, left there to dream of their happiness._

-Bright Eyes

I have never enjoyed school.

If I were to be honest with you, it is in my sincere and humble opinion that I've never found it to be much of a challenge. Everything seemed too easy to handle, which is why I excelled in it the way I did. I found everybody inferior but I still put up with them… It's quite amusing to have everybody kiss my ass even though I secretly think they're not worth my time.

Even now, as I breathe a sigh of relief upon hearing the bell ring, I close the clasp of my Louis Vuitton bag and stand up with a pretty smile painted on my face while I prepare myself for the inevitable greeting and general attempts at small talk from the morons whom I called classmates and friends.

It is as if my mouth has a life of its own because I am chuckling and laughing and even flirting (with the guys) with people who are suddenly in my company. We walk down the hallway and Tia (an insignificant twit who wants to be me) suddenly gives an excited squeal while I am in the middle of a story.

Annoyed, I look at her but she only gives me an envious look.

"Isn't that, like, Conner Valmont? It is, isn't it? He's like, so hot!"

My annoyance melts away completely when I realize he was waiting for me by the benches. He catches my gaze and smiles disarmingly, completely oblivious to the fact that almost the entire female population present had begun eyeing him.

"I have to go." I announce and then before they can reply, I walk briskly toward him.

"What are you doing here?"

He stands up and again he smiles halfway. My God, he was completely too fucking gorgeous I swear I could fuck him right then and there. Conner leans down (because he was much taller than me) and kisses my cheek, his hand placing itself on my waist.

"Actually, I was looking for a certain senior but I don't think she's come out yet… Perhaps you might help?" He frowns slightly, looking thoughtful. "She's… this tall, with green eyes and a very bitchy attitude. Some people call her Kathryn, but she also answers to Kate... Although that's only for people who really know her."

"Well… I think I know where she is, but she currently has a meeting so I suppose you'll have to take me along for the meantime?"

He chuckles and I want so badly for him to touch me again that it's making me severely uncomfortable. He doesn't.

"Think I can steal you away for a couple of hours? We never had that dinner."

"It's three in the afternoon."

"It's okay. I never wanted the dinner. I just wanted to talk to you."

"About?"

My hands suddenly feel cold. _Alana Vaughn?_

But he shrugs. Sometimes I wish he were as easy to read as the others.

"Just stuff."

I enter his rented dark blue Porsche while he shuts the door for me. Like Sebastian, he may have his oddities and he may sometimes be a jerk (although not to me), but he has manners.

The car pulls away from the curb and I steal a look at his profile if only to gain some sort of clue as to what he was thinking.

But there was nothing. No expression except when he realized what I was trying to do. He grins at me, raising his eyebrows as if to say "What?"

_I wish I could read you._

He takes me to the gallery where he was going to exhibit his photographs and I realize that it was completely deserted. I would have felt apprehension had it been any other man since I've never liked surprises but with Conner, I only felt oddly excited.

I rub my hands on my arms, shivering slightly at the freezing temperature of the AC. Before I know it, he's wrapped his coat around me in such a gentle manner a part of me wanted to just do it, to just kiss him and have him and never be able to worry about anything again.

"Trade you a secret?" He asks, looking at his hands.

I nod.

"Go first?" He looks at me, his eyes so fucking perfect underneath the thick dark lashes.

"Alright."

He looks at me expectantly and I want to jump him and fuck him in the middle of the afternoon inside that deserted gallery.

"When you came here… At that exact point, at that exact moment, it was like…"

I pause, trying to collect my thoughts.

"After Sebastian's accident, I went to the hospital to see him and he said that he never wanted to have anything to do with me again… I…"

"I felt alone because I lost him and when I saw you that day, it was like… I was safe again."

I'm actually fidgeting. I've never done it before, but I'm doing it now. I don't want to see his reaction, in fact I pretty much feel like I want to disappear completely.

He doesn't say anything for a while and I'm worried that I might have freaked him out. Did I sound needy? Pathetic? Fuck! I never worried about these things in the past. What had he done to me?

"I'm tired." Conner says quietly, his hands find mine and he stops me with my fidgeting. "This is just wearing me out, Kate. I can't… I can't do it anymore."

"Do what?"

"God…" He swallows, his eyes locking into mine. The walls are crumbling before me and for the first time I really see him. "You don't have any idea, do you?"

"Trying to read you is like trying to predict the future."

"I want you, Kate. I want… I want to do things to you, to kiss you and… everything. I just…"

If you have any idea what it feels like to get hit with something that just completely blindsides you, then you'll know what it is like for me at that moment.

"So stop fighting it." I reply, touching his face with my hands the way he did when he came that day I ruined Cecile's life.

He opens his mouth to talk but thinks better of it. As he takes my hands away from his face, he leans in and then our eyes are closed and he kisses me.

The kiss quickly evolves into something else and it was like he had been keeping it inside for so long that it now comes out at such a dangerously sexual pace. I don't even know how I had climbed on his lap and yet here I was, his hand had slipped under my blouse and he'd begun to fondle my breasts, adding to the now searing heat that turned into an almost unbearable ache between my thighs. I tilted my neck back while he kisses down the column of my neck and I grind myself against his crotch, causing him to gasp.

I think I can love him now.

He groans at the act, his mouth was still pressed against my skin. He murmurs my name in a deep voice and I pull him closer to me like we would suddenly be in Madrid where there was no Alana and no Sebastian anymore.

When I move to unzip his pants, he grabs my shoulders and pushes me away to hold me at arm's length.

"Wait." He says, breathing heavily. His normally pale face is slightly red and his pupils are dilated and darkened.

"I've waited long enough. _We've_ waited long enough, Conner." I answer with half shut eyes, my body seems to be moving on its own while I move my hips in a small circular motion, loving how it felt and knowing I wanted _more_.

"Not here." He bites his lower lip, nibbling on it. I push his arms away and I lick his lips, caressing the back of his neck.

"It's unfair how you make me so horny and then pull away like that." I pout petulantly, watching as he looks at me. I love how he looks at me, I love the undisguised craving in his eyes, and I really loved the way he looked like he was going to eat me alive at the moment.

Screw can. I think I loved him now.

"I just want it to be…"

"Special?" I tease, grinning coyly. "We've already fucked before. I don't think it's really necessary at this point."

It's like I've dug out a particularly bad memory because his expression darkens. He winces like I'm hurting him and I don't know what I've done but I know that I want it to stop. He's even trying to push me away, but I'm not letting him.

"Get off." He shakes his head slightly and momentarily I wonder if he's bipolar. "This is a mistake."

"No!" I shake him enough to rattle his teeth, I'd like to shake the conscience away from him too. I grab his chin and force him to look at me, going so close I can feel his breath against my mouth. "What's wrong? What did I say??"

"I'm driving you back to your place." He tries turning away from me but I slap him hard.

"I want you so badly, don't you know that?" I tell him in a pleading tone, kissing his full mouth over and over again like it will make him stop worrying. "I do, Conner. You… You tell me you'd like to do things to me, well I want that too. I want you. I want you inside me, I want you with me," I press my cheek against his jaw. "So whatever it is, just stop it. Stop fighting it, I don't fucking care about your fiancée."

"Sebastian."

Sebastian. Blue eyes. Blond hair. My Seb. His hands. His mouth. The only other man I could have loved.

"I don't care about him, too." I stroke the now growing hair, wondering when I'll be able to see the large curls I loved twisting around with my fingers.

"You don't?"

God, his voice. It seemed so young at that point.

I shake my head, smiling before I kiss him again. This time he responds, and weird as it may sound, that's just what we do until it seemed right to leave. When I stand up and fix my blouse (which suddenly seemed to have been unbuttoned) and he wraps an arm around me protectively. Like he's worried I might leave or something. I feel like I'm really seventeen at that point, because I feel satisfied and happy and nearly stupidly giddy I had to stop myself from smiling just so I won't look like a moron.

I spend the ride home cuddled against him, worried of the same thing he was. That he might leave. So this is what it feels like.

When we reach the house, I'm glad Sebastian wasn't home. I take his hand and lead him up to my room, and at that point everything else was gone.

My Conner. Mine now.  
---

The next day I wake up and he's still there, wide-awake and as perfectly handsome as ever.

"Good morning." He grins at me, playing with my hand.

I just stare at him for a while and wonder if everything that's happened, from Sebastian to Annette to the betrayal, if it's all some sort of path for me to be here with Conner right now.

"It is, isn't it?" I finally reply and he kisses my forehead.

"This is nice."

"It is, isn't it?" he replies, laughing as he repeats my words. I punch his arm and his smile disappears into my neck while he begins kissing me there. It tickles. I try not to chuckle but it escapes my throat anyway, and as we spend the first few minutes of the morning in bed, I realize that I can do without fucking Dean Hargrove.

I am happy now.

I wrap my arms around him and he starts tickling me. The laughter comes out easily now, and I am too tired to hold back. Between fits of laughter and vain attempts to push him off me, I don't hear the subtle knock on my door until it finally becomes louder.

"Kathryn, is Conner with you?"

We both freeze, I in my mid laugh and Conner in attempting to pin me to the mattress.

"Tell me you don't care anymore."

His voice. That voice again, pleading somehow. Didn't he understand at all what he's done to me?

"I don't care anymore." I reply, smiling at his suddenly serious expression while I run my hand over his short hair. "Want to answer the door or should I?"

"I'll take a bath." He props himself up and stares at me intently. I can only look back and wonder. Was this it then?

"Give a minute to tell him to fuck off and I'll join you."

I open the door just as Conner was about to step into the bathroom, only I realize that Sebastian wasn't alone. A startlingly beautiful red haired woman (also known as the bitch stick with breasts and a brain) stands beside him and she catches a glimpse of Conner with the sheets wrapped around his waist.

"Oh, God." Alana Vaughn has a voice that screamed sensuality and I wanted to rip out her throat for it.

The expression on Conner's face at that point... The mild discomfort and guilt contrasted evenly with my stepbrother's indication of utter apathy and I can only glare at him hatefully.

Alana's voice breaks and she tells Conner something in Spanish and immediately his jaw drops open. As she turns on her heel to walk away, he calls out her name. Yells it even.

"Wait!" His voice echoes through the empty hallway but she doesn't stop.

Wait. I grab his arm as he attempts to pass us half dressed, his dark eyes frantic with alarm.

"Kate…" He says, looking at me. "God, Kate… I can't…"

He looks at Sebastian and then at me, "I have to go."

And off he went.

I gape at his retreating figure in silence, feeling something that was akin to crushing disappointment. This ends when I feel Sebastian's hand on my shoulder, like he wanted to give me the comfort that had been months too late. When I needed it from him, he called me a whore. I don't need it from him now.

I shrug his hand away and slap his face.

"What the fuck!"

"You called her! You—"

Slap.

"Fucking—"

Slap.

"BASTARD!"

He backs into my room to shield himself from my attacks, his arms protecting his face. Oh, damn his face. I wanted to claw it off his skull.

"You knew! You knew I had gotten him and you just wanted to ruin it!"

He finally has enough and the roles are reversed. Just like our games in the past, he sidesteps before he catches my arms angrily. His grip signifies his increasing frustration at my violent behavior but I only knee his groin, causing him to fall back on my bed with a pained curse.

"Goddamn you!" He hisses, his face bright red. "Do you honestly think it was only my doing? HE LEFT YOU! I NEVER MADE HIM DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT!"

"CONNER LOVES ME!"

A wry and twisted smile comes across the mouth I had once kissed and now only wanted to tear off.

"Funny way of showing it, don't you think?"

I swiped my curled fingers across his cheek, effectively leaving at least two deep scratches that turned red in the wake of the attack. Blood. I wanted to draw more from him. To make him bleed and watch him suffer.

"WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT IT??" I screech, turning away to wipe the angry tears that have covered my eyes. "YOU DON'T KNOW HOW LONG I'VE WAITED! I HATE YOU!"

His teeth is still gritted but it seems like the pain has subsided. Sebastian sits upright, staring at me as hatefully as I am looking at him.

"You're right, Kathryn. What would I know about it? It's not like I haven't loved you since I really knew you. It's not like I fucking wanted you more than anything else, it's really not as if I had been willing to throw away the first semblance of what seemed to be love just to have you in bed, to be inside you and to have you touch me and say my name while you had your eyes shut and your voice reduced to mere whispers." He laughs harshly, "It isn't like that at all, is it? I wouldn't know anything about loving you, would I? Because you never let me…" His face contorts in a silent fury. In full frustrated mode as he punches the mattress futilely, letting out an angry curse. "Fuck! It isn't like that to you, is it? So yes, you're right. I wouldn't know anything about that. I wouldn't know anything about being jealous of Court and Adrian and every other goddamn moron who got to be with you, because I can't, can I? You'll never allow it. We're related in their eyes, I can never take you out and put my arm around you and kiss you the way I want to. I can never be your date to these stupid fucking charities you organize and the moronic high school dances I laugh at. We can never be a fucking couple, can we? You'll be ashamed of me. You'll just push me away. In retrospect, I suppose you're right."

He stands up, fixing his rumpled clothes and clearing his throat like he just hasn't made a confession that turned me speechless. He has two claw marks that now turned an ugly red on his cheek and he presses a handkerchief against it, staring at me as though he waited for me to continue hurting him.

"You left me." I finally get something to say, and perhaps this wasn't the best of comebacks but it was the only thing I could think of saying. "You're just saying this because of Conner. Typical. You want me now that I've started to want someone else."

Oh, Christ… This time, the expression on his face… Hopeful. Little boy. My Sebastian.

"You wanted me?"

"Of course I wanted you, you stupid fag."

He blinks and then flashes me the most heartbreaking and saddest smile he has probably ever given in his entire life.

"The time we missed." He replies quietly, "God. I hate us for it."

I don't reply.

"Do you think you love him yet?"

I look at my feet.

"He cares for you." He continues. "I've seen him with Alana and he's different when he's around you."

"I know."

"Okay." He nods and I don't move. I just continue looking at my feet like they held all the answers in this fucking world.

"Hey, Kate?"

Kate. There it was again. My hands grow cold at the sound of that nickname escaping from the mouth of a boy who only called me a dirty whore.

"Oh, you're calling me that again."

"Why? I can't anymore? Is Conner the only one entitled to it now? God, you are just unbelievable…" His voice trails off. I turn my attention back to him and I see the large bags under his blue eyes. He looks tired, too.

"I don't want to fight." He replies simply. "Blaine's been calling for you. I think it's about the private detective you sent to find Annette… Only you should have just asked me instead of hiring some two-bit loser to tail her. She's moved back to Kansas and she's dating Trevor again… She's pregnant now."

"What??"

"It's Trevor's." He hastens to add, "We haven't… I mean… We have, but… It's not mine."

Wait. What? I knew she was getting fat. So it wasn't the stupid headband she wore the last time I saw her after all. I would have laughed if Sebastian didn't look so serious. Stupid bitch. I wonder what dear old daddy thinks of her now… And I suppose the amusing thing is, I never had to do anything for her life to fuck itself up. Thank you, God. I may not believe in you but if you do exist, then you must have a very soft spot for me.

"We broke up when Conner came… She…"

I frown. The bet. How she threatened me. Was it because of that?

Sebastian knows me too well.

"It wasn't just you, so don't be too full of yourself. You know that two-week thing? She just… She thought I was cheating. She hooked up with Trevor and they had an affair." He shrugs, "Never mind. It doesn't matter, does it?"

"But… But you told me not to hurt her… You still protected her!"

Sebastian shrugs again, "I care for her. I have my reasons."

"Even though she cheated on you??"

"She violated my trust by even making a copy of my journal. I didn't trust her enough to share some parts of my life that I should have if I claimed to love her. In hindsight, I suppose the trust issue's been fucked up already."

"Why…"

"Why didn't I tell you?"

I nod, silenced.

He smiles that devilish grin of his, "It was fun watching you flirt with the Dean, knowing you were thinking of fucking him just to screw up his family. Well, fun _and_ nauseating. I knew you that if you wouldn't be able to dig up anything on Annette, you'd go after her father. I know about Alexa White, too. Don't you think I would have done my research as well?"

"Sebastian…"

"Do you love him?"

"I… I could."

"Could." He muses. "That's a strong word coming from you. It denotes possibilities."

"But you hate me! Why the hell are you—"

"Go."

I stop talking and look at him, confused.

"I heard you laughing when I was outside your room… I thought it wasn't you because I've never heard you like that before. So if he's the guy, then go. He has issues, but he'll never hurt you."

"But…"

"I've never been a brother to you, Kate. So just this once, I think I'm giving it a try. Go." He hands me the keys to his Jag, smiling again. "I'll be here when you get back."

"What are you…"

"You need to do it. They're probably at the hotel right now."

I wonder if it's a test. The keys feel slightly cold against my palm and his hand lingers for a moment before he retracts it. When he turns to leave, I place a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"Are we… Are we okay?"

"There was never anything wrong with us." He replies before exiting.

Conner.

---

It's easy to find out whether or not they were indeed inside the hotel suite Conner resided in. Even as I slipped in clandestinely, using the key card Conner had given when he arrived to visit, I hear Alana's voice. They were arguing in two languages and I was mostly glad that it was English. I could only surmise the Spanish words to be profanities. It mostly came from her though.

Conner's speaking in English though. I hide behind an empty room and watch as they confront each other. Alana had shoved him and then yelled something with the name Philip, slapping Conner's cheek as though punctuating her sentence.

I once told you that it takes very few things to faze him, but when he gets angry, he can be very scary. The moment she says that sentence, the color drains from his face. Philip. I search my memory for some sort of clue or a face I might remember during my visits in Spain but there was none.

"YOU WHAT!" He yells angrily, his fists clenching. "HE WAS MY FRIEND! WE WERE ENGAGED THEN, ALANA! _Hijo de puta_!"

Son of a bitch. Or whore, if you literally translated the last word. Son of a whore. I remembered that much from the days when he'd cheekily teach me profanities in Spanish.

"We're engaged now!" She screams back, tears falling down her face. She tries to grab his shoulders but he jerks away from her with utmost revulsion. Whoever this Philip was, he must be a real jackass. "It… It was a mistake, okay?"

"How many times?" He barks, shaking.

"It doesn't matter!"

"YES IT DOES! YES IT FUCKING DOES!" He responds, full of rage.

"HOW DARE YOU TRY TO TURN THIS ON ME?? YOU SLEPT WITH THAT… THAT GIRL!"

Girl? How dare she??

"Her name's Kathryn!" He retorts, "We're separated right now, Alana! You slept with him while we were still together!"

"We're not separated!" She touches his face the way I did and I felt myself burn with jealousy. "This is your fault! You want to know why I slept with Philip? You were gone! You…"

She starts crying and it seems like the anger that had fueled her earlier is now gone.

"You wouldn't let me in…" She whispers pitifully, "I got tired of it, Conner… But it was a mistake…I never… I… I love you, okay? Please just don't run away from me again… I… You just had to let me in…"

She starts beating his chest angrily with futile, ineffective punches as Conner stands stricken. He takes it all, looking sad and tired.

"You couldn't just try… Just… Try…" She whispers something in Spanish and slowly his arms go around her. He begins stroking her hair, soothing her in the same language. I didn't understand anything.

I saw him slightly shiver and I realize that in his haste to go after her, he'd forgotten to put on his shirt. Her hands eventually begin rubbing his back and at first he stiffens as she caresses his scars but then he lets her.

_He lets her._

"Conner."

I didn't mean to say it out loud but as the word escapes my mouth, it is loud and clear. They both look at me and suddenly I feel like I am strangely intruding even though I know that I had a right to be there.

He glances at me and then at her, sorrow reflecting in his eyes.

"Kate." He replies and then whispers something to Alana, who nods and turns away from us. As he enters the room and closes the door behind him, he motions for me to take a seat. I look at him like he's just asked me to jump off the balcony. How can he ask me to do that when I feel like my heart's about to jump out of my body?

"You're choosing her." I say in a flat tone.

He sighs, "You don't understand…"

He reaches out for me but I shove him back, taking a step away from him.

"Yes, I do. You're fucking worried, aren't you? Is it because you're a Valmont? You're worried about what people might think? Is it because I'm a minor?" I challenge him spitefully, "I'm turning eighteen in three months, goddamn you! You-you can't make me love you and then choose her! It doesn't work like that! It doesn't fucking work like that! You're not willing to fight for me, you stupid coward!"

I move to slap him but he catches my arm, suddenly breathing heavily. I remember how he breathed the same way when he'd been inside me last night. How could things have changed so much since then?

"I am willing to do anything for you." He replies quietly, his eyes meeting mine and I was sure he was telling the truth. "You say I'm not willing to fight for you? You can't be fucking serious, Kathryn. _I am_. I would do anything I could just to have you. I'd fucking move here if I have to, I don't give a fuck if my uncle's married to your mother. I don't give a fuck if you're only seventeen either. I love you. I always have."

"Then why…?"

"Ask me why I shaved my head."

"Huh?" I was not expecting that.

"Ask me." He gently lets go of my arm.

"Why did you?"

"You called me Sebastian."

"What? When did I…" My voice trails off. I remember his reaction when I mentioned how he'd fucked me before… How he seemed to have changed his mind about kissing me. Like I'd unearthed a bad memory…

He nods as understanding dawns on me.

"You called me Sebastian… You were kissing me and playing with my hair while we were… You called me Sebastian." He says again. "It's not that I'm not willing to fight for you, Kate. You know it isn't… I love you, and I think you love me. But I don't like sharing. What I want from you, you'll never be able to give."

"What do you want from me?" I ask hoarsely, too stunned to speak.

"You just can't." he replies, frowning like this pains him more than it did when he'd been talking to Alana.

"You're settling." I remark bitterly, "Just because you're fucking scared of—"

"I am not scared of anything."

"Even if I did… do what you said I did, that was last year! I've changed!"

Desperately pleading for a boy to love me. My God. Have I changed or what?

He shakes his head, "Your plan… You wanted to have sex with Annette's father just to screw with him… You wanted me to hurt you afterwards… Make it look real? That's what you said, right? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? You were willing to do something as… foul as that just to get back at him."

"That wasn't about Sebastian! It was about WINNING!" I screech, suddenly wanting to gag his mouth so he wouldn't be able to talk.

"No, it wasn't."

"Is this your way of rejecting me? What, is this some sort of reverse psychology bullshit so you'll make it seem like it's my fault that we're not going to work out??"

My voice reaches near hysteria. All I know is that I cannot lose Conner. I only want him to kiss me and be inside of me, I want him to pick me up at school with that smile on his face, like he knows that I wanted nothing more than to disappear with him and never come back. Screw Sebastian.

"You called me Sebastian twice. You were murmuring it when you were drunk that day."

"I LOVED HIM THEN! I LOVE YOU NOW!"

"Kate…"

He pulls me into a hug but I wrench away from him, slapping and hurting every part of him I can hit.

"NO! WHY WON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?? I HATE YOU!"

I run. I don't know for how long or how fast I run and I drive but eventually night reaches me. I turn off the engine and stare into the empty darkness of the garage underneath the townhouse. I feel something wet slide down my cheeks and I check the blinking cell phone. Voice messages. Five from Conner, none from Sebastian. Why won't he understand?

I stay motionless in the car as I play his messages. Frantic. Desperate. Full of love and gentleness and apologies. I hated him at that point. He's leaving with her.

About ten minutes later I hear a familiar set of footsteps and the door opens. The light from inside the house makes me close my eyes but Sebastian doesn't turn on the lights inside the garage. Instead, he closes the door and once again we are immersed in the darkness.

"He's gone."

He doesn't talk. He only climbs into the passenger's seat and takes the now silent phone away from me. Sebastian's hand slowly reaches for my wrist and he squeezes it slightly.

"Why am I always stuck with you?" I ask out of the blue and I hear him chuckle.

"I could ask the same question to you."

"Sebastian?"

"Hmm?"

"Whatever happens right now, can we just forget about it afterwards?"

He remains silent, as though contemplating my strange request before he finally responds.

"Okay."

"Do you swear?"

"I do."

"Alright."

I turn and climb on his lap, placing my cheek on his shoulder while I wrap my arms around his neck. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. In fact, it is as if he'd known I was going to do that because he only kisses my forehead while he holds on to me. I play with his hair and start twisting the strands into large curls.

"Conner." I whisper again and he stiffens. His entire upper body becomes straight and I anticipated him pushing me off his lap but he only stays still.

"Is this what you need?" Sebastian asks, rubbing my lower back.

"Yes." I feel the wetness down my cheeks like warm saltwater. "Yes."

His body relaxes and I continue playing with his hair. He reaches for my neck and pulls me down. I kiss his mouth, his full mouth opening in response.

"Conner." I say again and he slips his tongue into my mouth. I kiss it, my lips wrap around it before he retracts and then his hands wander up and down my back, then he cups my breast through the thin fabric of my dress. I moan and arch my back, shutting my eyes angrily to stop the flow of angry and frustrated tears.

"Do you need me to be him?" He asks, kissing my neck sensually.

"Yes." I reply, half lost in the illusion and the sensations of being against him like this.

"I'm staying with you." He kneads my breast and I feel him harden when I sway my hips against his lap.

"More." I hate myself for doing this.

"I don't want her. I just want you."

I kiss his mouth more than his other parts because it is full and soft and it reminds me of his cousin.

"Yes." I gasp, half sobbing and half disgusted at myself because of what I was doing.

"I love you, Kathryn"

The moment Sebastian says that I stop. I pull away from his waiting mouth and I lean against him, completely exhausted and tired of everything I was feeling.

He understands. He always does.

* * *

A/N: So much for Team Conner. Alright I just wanted to thank you guys and I really would reply in length but I have a major exam tomorrow and I just spent 2 hours on this chapter so I'm really sorry but I have to go. Thank you again for reading and I'm glad you like it, and to those of you who said I would get into that writing program, thank you so much! It really means a lot. It took me this long to realize I couldn't ignore this writing thing at all. Geez. For someone who can write perceptive thoughts, I can be pretty damn dense. I guess that's it. I would have had Kathryn go on with the whole scheme but then it would have turned into another one of those stories and I'm trying to stay away from that.  



	12. Duodecimus

_When you go_

_Would you have the guts to say_

_ "I don't love you_

_ Like I loved you_

_ Yesterday"¬?_

-My Chemical Romance  
---

_Your honored presence is requested to the union_

_of_

_Alanna Michelle Smith Vaughn,  
Daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Stanford Vaughn_

_To_

_Lord Conner Alfonso de la Santisima y Valmont,  
Son of Mr. Daniel Valmont and Lady Carmen de la Santisima y Valmont_

_On  
…_  
(the rest remains unread)

---

_3 months later—_

The elegant cream colored and gold embossed invitation sits partly open on my desk like it is taunting me with its perceived purity. It is almost as if it mocked me. In a bizarre way I am even reminded of Annette, although I don't know why.

I rest against the comfort of my thick pillows and even though I'm not particularly fond of television (not that I have the time to watch anyway), I turn it on just to get the image out of my head.

It doesn't really work. No sooner have I started flipping through the channels that I come upon the evening news. The headline flashing across the screen grabs my attention and makes my stomach lurch.

No, screw the headline. The photograph was the one that made me stare. It's like watching something unfold and yet try as you can to stop it, it is as if time moves slower around you and all you can do is look.

_Spanish Duke to marry Senator Vaughn's daughter._

It isn't as if Conner had been next in line to the throne or anything, but his family was still influential in Spain. The photograph was fairly recent and it was of them attending some sort of benefit held at a hotel in Paris. He was smiling at her and she was smiling at the camera, her skin was golden while his was still wonderfully pale. Her hair was longer than mine, a natural dark red. He had his shaved head that nevertheless made him look all the more noticeable now that the curls weren't obscuring certain parts of his face. They looked fucking perfect I wanted them shot.

_"Alana Vaughn, daughter of Senator Vaughn, is no stranger to political dynasties so it's no surprise that she's getting married to a member of Spain's royal family. While she relatively keeps a low profile despite the political ties of her family, it has just been announced that she will marry Lord Conner Valmont, who is incidentally the son of billionaire shipping mogul Daniel Valmont and Lady Carmen de la Santisima y Valmont, Duchess of dos Palmas..."_

Clips of them in Spain, heavily flanked by bodyguards. He hand an arm around her and they both had their sunglasses on. I kissed that mouth. I touched that back. It seems like an entire lifetime ago when it had only been two weeks.

_"Kathryn, please pick up the phone… Please… Fuck… I'm sorry… I'm sorry I'm hurting you right now I-I'd do it if I can, you know that, right? But it doesn't work like that… It doesn't…"_

_"Are you there? Please let me know if you're okay I… I've called your house and Sebastian said you still aren't home… I know you're angry at me but I'm really worried please call me I… I can't stand this… You have no idea how sorry I am about everything. I should have never let myself…_

_(A frustrated groan)_

_I should have never allowed myself to say all that I did to you… It was out of line and…_

_(Pacing. He's pacing now)_

_It doesn't change the fact that I love you. It really doesn't, you have to believe me."_

_"Kathryn… I'm leaving. I should have done this before things got out of hand and I'm sorry… I'm sorry for hurting you but you have to understand… You just have to… I'm not doing this to run away, please remember that… I know you need your space so I'm giving it to you. I know that you have a lot of questions and frankly you're not the only one. I think I have to do this… I'm sorry."_

_"I just called Sebastian again and you're still not home… I want to see you before I leave but I don't know where you are… Please call me. I need to talk to you."_

_"Kate?_

_(His last message)_

_You're still not answering… You're still angry at me… I wish you wouldn't be. I'm… I guess I could say a lot of things to you right now. I can tell you that I'm deeply sorry but I don't regret the time I spent with you. I hate that I hurt you because it happened and I hate myself for having that selfish need to enjoy being with you when I know that… Well, never mind. I know you're not one for sentimentalities but… I'll really miss you."_

"In spite of the formal title as Duke, Lord Valmont is a renowned photographer who recently had a successful exhibit…" The blonde onscreen droned on but I had stopped listening. They showed more photographs of the happy couple. They even showed one that had obviously been taken during an unguarded moment at the beach what seemed to be months ago because he still had his large soft curls. He was holding her hand and murmuring something in her ear. I wanted to hate him. I hate that I didn't.  
I hate that he'd tried to call me for an entire week everyday and I never spoke to him. I hate how he stopped trying afterward.

The door opens.

"Listen, don't turn on to channel—"

Sebastian stops talking and I turn off the TV, looking at him expectantly.

"Never mind." He replies, noticing the opened invitation. He held a similar one in his hand, along with that ever-present faggot journal.

"Are you going?"

He nods. "Isabel even called to make sure the invitations arrived… I'm leaving a week from now."

I catch the affection in his voice. Isabel, Conner's sister. She's one of the few females I actually respect.

A pause.

"Are you going, Kathryn?"

I try to smile but it comes out as a bitter grimace. "Why would I miss the wedding of the century? They're making it seem like he would be king or something… It's too hyped up it doesn't even deserve that much media coverage."

"Why bitterness suits you well, sis. I must say you're turning into a lovely shade of green."

I roll my eyes, "Oh, fuck off. You do know that this is partly _your_ doing that I'm spending the night alone and restless like this?"

His eyes linger over my body, "That can be remedied, you know."

"It can…" I let him come closer until his face is so near I can almost lick his lips.

"But not by you."

"Oh? You'd prefer to call Adrian then?"

"No. I'd prefer to call Conner."

His smile vanishes. I _almost_ feel bad, but then his smile returns just as easily. He touches my face and I don't flinch. His hand feels warm. Not safe like Conner's, but warm. Familiar. His thumb parts my mouth and I bite the tip teasingly, noticing how his blue eyes seemed to suddenly darken a shade.

"Do you really? He's that good in bed?"

"Hmm… I wouldn't have a basis of comparison if you're going to ask which cousin I'd prefer fucking."

"What about which cousin's… bigger?" He climbs on top of me and even though there were times when this annoyed me, I let him. I enjoy feeling him on me. I've never told him that and probably never will, but even though I've been with a lot of men, (even Conner), there's just something different about having Sebastian like that. In the past when I felt especially fond (or horny), I would go to his room and lock the door. We'd do… _things_. Just because I never let him fuck me doesn't mean I didn't allow him to do other things. I can't _not_ give the boy a try, it's just humanly impossible for me to completely swear him off. Even though the pompous jackass knows it, he's extremely good looking. Okay, he's hot. I've never denied that.

Ever since Conner left I've been feeling peculiar. There was a sense of loss for the first few days after it happened, and for a while I wouldn't even talk to Sebastian. I blamed him for it. Well, wasn't it the fucker's fault in the first place? I went to parties and fucked men just to get a sense of who I was before the entire fucking chaos happened, although I realized I mostly opted for dark haired fair skinned men. Sebastian didn't contest my decision, nor did he reprimand me for it. He stayed out of my way as though he knew it was my way of coping for a while and he even resorted back to his old ways. Once again there were a lot of instances wherein his room would be filled with muffled sounds of what I knew to be very bad things being done. I was glad for that even though I hated him. I welcomed it because it meant he was really over the pregnant hag.

But then, I couldn't really get pissed for so long. The loneliness seeps in during the unlikeliest of places and no matter how I hated to admit it, his companionship is as unique as Conner ever was to me. Sometimes I still feel angry at him, and there are times when I call him Conner just to hurt him. When I allowed him to kiss me, I wanted to continue nibbling on his mouth with my eyes closed because it reminded me of Conner. He mostly takes it in stride, like he knows I'm punishing him for doing what he did, but there are times when he gets furious. There was a time when I happened to glance at the now framed photograph Conner gave me and this feeling of emptiness and frustration came over me so quickly that I loathed Sebastian so much I wanted to hurt him and kiss him at the same time. Stab him, save him, and then finish the job.

I had gone to his room and nearly assaulted him. I tore his shirt off and he kissed me back just as harshly, his hands wandered all over my body. One on my breast underneath my blouse and the other one rubbed me through my panties. God. Hot. Warm. Wet. The sex. The lust. The hatred. He is the enemy. He is my brother, my family, the instigator and the traitor.

I rolled my head back just as his lips traveled downwards, almost lost in the entire thing. He kissed differently than Conner. He tasted differently, too.

_"More…" I whispered as he led me to the bed. My eyes were closed at that point and as he peeled off my underwear, I realized what he was planning to do._

_Oh, God. I'm sorry._

_"Yes…" I hissed as he started lapping that spot, I clutched his hair and bucked my hips. Crude? I wanted to shove his face into me because he felt so good that I understood why we were never supposed to do this. He would be bad for me, and I don't mean that in an appealing way._

_"God, Kate you taste so fucking good." His voice. Deep and pained with the urge to fuck me into the next lifetime._

_Kate._

_I couldn't help it. I couldn't, because then isn't it a sad reality that we'll always wonder about the things we lost? Yes, even me. I do that. Not as sentimental as most morons are, but I do that. Very rarely. Alright, twice. I've done it twice.  
Don't ask._

_His face. His mouth. His voice. His scars. The way he looked at me. The way he touched me. Conner fucking saved me._

_I remembered everything. I remembered that day. Conner. Sebastian. Alana fucking Vaughn._

_"Conner." I half moaned and I felt him stop._

_"What did you say?" He wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and I stared at him squarely. The brother. The enemy. The sex._

_"Conner."_

_His right fist clenched and he swung at me. Everything was so fast and yet I knew that it was my face he was going to hit so I closed my eyes to wait for the impact._

_Maybe I wanted the pain._

_I never got it._

_His fist landed on the pillow inches from my face._

_"Get out." He snarled, shoving me off the bed. He threw my underwear at me and went to the bathroom, slamming the door._

_"You did this!" I yelled, throwing something at the door. His favorite book. I hope I damaged it._

_"You don't fucking do that to me! You don't!" He screamed from the inside and I jumped slightly when I heard him hit the door back._

_"What, did you think I was going to land on your bed?? I HAD CONNER! I HAD HIM AND YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAKE HIM!"_

_"I AM NOBODY'S REPLACEMENT!"_

_"I'M NOT REPLACING HIM WITH ANYBODY, LEAST OF ALL YOU!"_

_The door swung open and he was breathing heavily, his face was slightly red and once again his fists were clenched._

_"Do you have any fucking idea how demeaning it is to have you come into my room and randomly kiss me and then call me by a different name?" He growled, gritting his teeth. "And I allow it! GODDAMN YOU!"_

_"No, brother. Goddamn YOU. You did this to us."_

_He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the drawers, causing me to involuntarily cry out in pain as the knobs dug against my flesh._

_"Get him out." He commanded roughly like Conner was some demon who had possessed my body._

_"I can't."_

_He hit the spot next to me again and I noticed his knuckles were bleeding._

_"You don't love him."_

_"I don't know what I feel."_

_"You don't feel anything." He gripped me tightly and I felt like I was staring at a stranger._

_"But I do."_

_"He's gone, Kathryn." He continued in a deathly calm voice. His eyes bore into my skull and burned a hole into me, like he was trying to read me and control me somehow._

_"Really? I hadn't realized."_

_My flippant remark fueled his anger and his hands left my shoulders and grabbed my neck._

_"I will not be his replacement. He is gone, Kathryn. He left you. Do not treat me like one of your rebound fucks."_

_"Of course I won't. I'm not going to fuck you."_

_I felt him shake. I placed my hands on his arms and stared at him calmly even though I felt my limited supply of oxygen starting to leave._

_"Get him out." He said again quietly._

_"I can't." I stroked his arms, "I can't, Sebastian."_

_He let go of me._

_"Leave."_

We never spoke about that day again. The next day we went about our lives like nothing had happened. Sometimes I still called him Conner and sometimes he flinches. He doesn't turn psycho on me anymore though. When it gets too much he just asks me to leave. I think he knows it's my own twisted revenge for what he did.

"God, you disgust me… Are you thinking of molesting your own sister?" I feign repulsion, but in mild anticipation I squirm at the feel of him.

"Step…sister." He enunciates each word clearly, and his thumb leaves my mouth. He uses his arms to support himself on top of me but I feel his weight anyway. A bit heavy, but in a good way.

"It doesn't make that much of a difference to the police if I report you…"

He pouts. "You're not going to tell on me, are you?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"If I need something from you."

"Oh? Do you? Whose life are you going to ruin now?"

"I'd like to get him back, Sebastian."

He loses his mischievous look, "Who?"

"You know who."

He frowns. He's stopped his pouting. He's always so hot when he pouts, but now he doesn't. He's confused. So am I. He doesn't get off me though. The warm weight emphasizes his presence. I'd have to say I liked it.

"Still him."

"Yes."

"What about me?"

What about you, Sebastian? I am momentarily surprised at his question because his voice sounds so vulnerable and openly curious.

"Help me…" I touch his face before kissing his mouth. Soft. Like skin covered pillows.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Please…?"

"No, Kathryn."

"I can't do things well without you. You know that, Valmont."

He smirks. His eyelashes are long and thick. Yellow strands of golden hair before the blue eyes most women fell prey to. I caress the lines on his forehead. Worry lines. He lets me. I remember when Conner let me touch his back. These Valmont men and their complexities.

"Yes, you can. You're just trying to flatter me."

I flip him over and rest myself against him. I place my cheek on his chest and he strokes my hair.

"Alright." I amend thoughtfully, "I can. But it's different when you're with me."

I hear him chuckle. He massages the back of my neck and I purr at the soothing sensation.

"Don't do anything moronic, Kathryn. He's gone."

"You made him leave." I punch his chest lightly, petulantly scowling.

"Only because I wanted you all to myself." He responds and I feel his arms around my waist.

"You had that, brother. You gave it up for a virgin."

He doesn't reply. I glance at the table where he'd placed his journal and the wedding invitation. I notice another envelope resting between the pages. A letter? Must be from Annette, but somehow it caught my attention. It was opened.

"You got a letter?"

I feel him tense. I don't know why. He turns on his side, taking me with him so my attention is diverted.

"It's nothing." He replies. "Don't worry about it."

"Ooohh… From the knocked up ex?"

"No."

That tone means to leave it at that. So I do.

"Do that thing with my hair again." I yawn, "I was starting to fall asleep."

"Aww… You're such a softie."

I roll my eyes, "Fine, then get out."

"Brat." He retorts but then I feel his fingers on my scalp and all ideas of Conner and Alana and the wedding momentarily leave my head as sleep overtakes me.

"Goodnight, you vicious vixen." He murmurs in my ear.

"Mmm… Night, you fucked up prick."

Before I sleep I glance at the photograph. Little Kate and young Conner.

Things could have been different.

Sebastian covers me with the thick blankets.

"Close your eyes." He says like he knows what I'm looking at and thinking.

I keep them open and eventually I fall asleep. The last image on my mind was a seventeen-year-old boy with the palest skin and the saddest pair of dark eyes I'd ever seen.

* * *

A/N: Wanna know something funny? I was kind of torn, too… And you guys aren't helping matters with Team Conner and Team Sebastian (and Team Mathieu for Katie). So I guess no matter what I do, it won't please everybody. Oh well. Can't win em all. I will say this: Conner's not leaving so easily. I really love writing him. A message to all Team Conner and Team Seb people: Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. D A message to the only Team Mathieu member (although I do have a soft spot for him, I'm afraid he's been bumped off the favorite character ever created list for me): Sorry, Katie. I know BGA's not exactly finished yet but I'm afraid that ship's already sailed. 

I have time to reply to each person! (Sorry if it's excessively long but I haven't been able to reply for the past few chapters!)

Malinalli: Wow. I've never made anybody cry before with what I've written… Okay, I have but that was so long ago and it was because of another crap story I wrote when I was fifteen. Anyway, I'm not glad that you cried but I'm glad that the chapter had been able to incite such a strong reaction from you. I wish I could've seen that, it's a bit surreal to imagine someone staring at something I've written and actually crying because of it. It's so cute that you speak of Conner like he's a real person; suffice to say I'm glad that you find him interesting. He will make an appearance in the future chapters though and of course he still has issues with Kathryn sooo… I'm not going to give any more spoilers. You'll just have to wait. (evil laugh)

FeminnaPerfetta: Yep, you're not the only one. I actually liked Conner for her as well… But then again I'm pretty biased with every original character I create. Another Team Conner member though… Don't worry. He's going to be around. There's another interesting character in the following chapter who's going to be introduced as well… Or two. I think it's two. :D

Katie: You know you're probably the only one left on Mathieu's team… Which is also weird. I guess you're into the whole manipulative asshole obsessive psycho man thing. You're rereading AIE, yes? I've wanted to delete that story because of the major typos I was too lazy to fix... What was that phrase…? _Twisted love. Crimson affections. There was nobody else. _Was that it? Haha If it's worth anything, I have a soft spot for him too… But like I said, I'm extremely biased. Thank you for the message to the 'writing program people' by the way. D

Celeste: You're on Team Conner, too? Wow, and to think you're a KS gal… Tsktsk… It really sucks that she can't be with both of them. I should have given her a twin so everybody's happy. Sebastian, the white knight? Hmm. If there's one thing I've learned on how to make stories interesting, it's that everybody can't be categorized into one thing. Everybody's a mixture of everything. He's far from a white knight, as you'll see soon… And no more spoilers for you either! (another evil laugh)

Summerlandlover: Chalk one up for Team Seb I suppose? Sorry to disappoint, but Conner's not completely gone. It's a gradual process… But I guess we'll have to see. Trust me, though. They're gonna get there. ☺

B: Here it is, there is no longer the absence of personal messages… Although I can't really form a suitable reply for "Damn."… I'm only taking it as a good review though?

Hoshi: I beg to differ, they're not together. Not yet, anyway… Think I'll make it so easy? Haha

Wildly Obsessed: Thank you. ;-D No other word seems to be sufficient enough (and I just finished an entire chapter so my brain hurts like hell). I'm glad you joined the forum. I do enjoy reading your stories.

Sandsagent: And it will get even more interesting. ;-D The exam didn't go very well, though. But yeah, it's just because I'm bad at math. I guess my literary skills sucked out the power in the math area of my brain. Lol

Sophia: I can only hope that this story gets better! Thank you!

Wow. That's a lotta people… Everybody else—Thanks!


	13. Tertius Decimus

_What'll it take to get it through to you, precious?_

-A Perfect Circle

I wake up the following day with Sebastian breathing softly beside me, still fast asleep. With a startled realization, I remember the date. My birthday. I'm eighteen today and I never even thought about it.

Eighteen. A lump rises in my throat.

_"Yes, I do. You're fucking worried, aren't you? Is it because you're a Valmont? You're worried about what people might think? Is it because I'm a minor? I'm turning eighteen in three months, goddamn you! You-you can't make me love you and then choose her! It doesn't work like that! It doesn't fucking work like that! You're not willing to fight for me, you stupid coward!"_

_"I am willing to do anything for you. You say I'm not willing to fight for you? You can't be fucking serious, Kathryn. I am. I would do anything I could just to have you. I'd fucking move here if I have to, I don't give a fuck if my uncle's married to your mother. I don't give a fuck if you're only seventeen either. I love you. I always have."_

I attempt to sit up but from the heaviness of Sebastian's arm carelessly slumped around my waist, it might prove to be trying. The sheets were not only entangled in our legs, it seems that he's somehow managed to place his leg over mine like he'd been trying to prevent me from leaving. Proprietary somehow.

"Sebastian," I nudge him, my voice still raspy from the deep sleep I had managed to get. He doesn't say anything except a low moan that meant he was still far from rejoining the world.

"Let go." I try again, trying to push him off me but he makes another sound that I could only surmise to be annoyance. I try moving but he's too heavy and I try to take his hand and lift up his arm but then his fingers curl around mine.

"Love you." He says sleepily and I gape at him in astonishment. His eyes are still closed and he's holding my hand.

"Love you, Annette."

"What the fuck!"

I push him away and he begins laughing, his eyes finally open while he stares at me apologetically.

"Sorry," he shrugs, rubbing his puffy eyes while he stretches his arms over his head. When the hell did he take his shirt off?

"Of all the insults to be hurled at me…" I begin in a low tone, signifying my impending anger.

He holds up his hands in surrender, smiling sheepishly.

"I was awake, princess. Can't you take a joke? I mean, _you_ call me Conner."

"That's-that's different!" I sputter and I notice that his boxer shorts were uneven. I can't help but stare at the defined pelvic region of his body, clearly distracted from being pissed off. "And put some clothes on for crying out loud! Someone might come in and see you like that!"

"Who would ever come inside your room without asking permission? Your mother's off being a gold digging whore somewhere and she's the only other person except for me who just barges in. Besides, the last time a maid came in here she almost ended up needing stitches on her face when you threw something at her."

"I had a hangover, and that was one time!"

"No, you were just being you: A crabby, difficult bitch."

"Are you usually this pleasant in the morning?"

"I am." He confirms, smiling slightly. "Happy birthday, sis."

"Thank you."

He grabs his journal and absentmindedly scratches his navel, like he's trying to bring my attention to the hard muscles that he seems to suddenly have. Has he always been that muscular? I haven't noticed.

"Any plans for today? Lunch with your fake friends? A mindblowing fuck from an idiot boyfriend?" One round of nose candy with the fag?"

"Actually, I just remembered it was my birthday this morning."

He looks surprised, "Really? I mean, I was wondering why you weren't being a pest with the gift thing. Usually you nagged me to get you something with your not so subtle hints but I figured you were just into that Conner thing so…" His voice trails off.

"Whatever." I head for the bathroom but he stops me.

"Hurry up and get dressed, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because it's your birthday and I'm taking you out."

"I thought you had that date?"

"So? It's only once a year that we commemorate the day the Lucifer's daughter was born… And at eighteen, too. You know it's a big deal. Get dressed, kid."

"Don't call me kid. You're only a month older than me, Valmont."

"Oh, don't be so bitchy." He pinches my cheek teasingly and I glare at him.

"Fuck off."

"Well, what are you going to do? You can't stand those morons you call friends."

"None of your business!"

"Last night we were making progress with the thawing out, Kate. Don't tell me the ice froze again while I was asleep."

"I think it froze while you started fondling my breast in your sleep. I really think you need to go back to Dr. Greenbaum, brother dearest. Having sexual urges for your sister is very unhealthy."

He cringes, _"Stepsister_, Kathryn. Will you please remember that? I'm free to do any goddamn thing I please. If I want to fuck you, then I—"

"You will?"

He grins, "A guy can try."

"Try being the word there, Valmont."

Sebastian shrugs, "Yes, because you're in love with Conner and you only want him, blahblahblahblah… I'm just a poor standby until you get him back, and so on and so forth…"

"Hey—"

He stops ranting.

"Shut up and stop whining. If you're trying to make me feel bad for calling you Conner, it's not going to work."

He glares at me.

"But you're not a poor standby until I get him back, Sebastian. Don't lower yourself like that, you know you're much more to me than walking sex."

"Is that a lame attempt at trying to make me feel better?"

"No. It's something that'll make you stop whining." I fix him a hesitant grin which he returns, "Now get out. I need to get dressed if I'm going to allow you to take me out."

---

"Hey, Kathryn?" I hear his voice through the steady rush of the shower as I shampoo my hair.

"What?" I yell back, annoyed that he can't even let me shower in peace without pestering me.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

There was a pregnant pause from me.

"Still there?" He called out again, suddenly sounding impatient.

"Is that a serious question?" I finish my bath and as soon as the last of the shampoo was rinsed along with the liquid soap that smelled like vanilla I had slowly applied all over my body, I take a towel and wrap it around myself.

I open the door and find him standing there, already freshly bathed. His aftershave assails my nostrils while he openly leers at me, that naughty look ever present in his lust filled blue eyes.

"No, I just asked for the hell of it." He replies, deadpanned.

"Okay, I'd like for you to stop being a lying sack of shit for one day."

"Hey! I've been honest with you ever since we got back together!"

I stop mid-walk when I was about to get my clothing.

"Excuse me? Ever since we _what_?"

His face turns red and it would have been an amusing and an adorable sight had I not glanced at him blankly.

"You know what I mean." He mutters, rolling his eyes. "I didn't mean it in a sense that we were _back_ _together_. That would imply that we were together in the first place, and by reputation and from what I hear and sometimes witness from you, even though you're sensational in bed I'm afraid that as a girlfriend, you would be neurotic and impossible to bear with."

"Thank you for being so nice to me on my birthday." I reply sarcastically, "Would you mind leaving so I can put on my clothes?"

"Aww… Since when have you been modest, Kate?"

"And please do not call me Kate."

"Alright, _Kathryn_." He drawls out my name slowly, "I've seen you naked a million times anyway, why the sudden shyness? Don't tell me my presence makes you self-conscious… Why, that's so… _cute…"_

He glances at me and I cock my head sideways, meeting his challenge and accepting it.

"You think you can make me blush, brother dearest?" I purr, giving him a smoldering look that he easily deflects with an indifferent shrug. "I believe it's quite the opposite."

"Not at all. You don't unnerve me. You unnerve a lot of people but not me."

"Please. I can't unnerve you? I can do more than that. I can make you so hard you won't even be able to walk straight. I just made you blush earlier, or have you already forgotten that with your very short attention span?"

He smirks, "Is it my fault that I have a very good complexion?"

I glance at the door, noticing that it had already been locked. The fucker must have been trying to manipulate me into touching him… He had already anticipated I would rise to the challenge, and I would most certainly have if I hadn't caught that little door locking stunt he pulled. He doesn't notice that I'd already caught on; he was too busy staring at the curves of my body. I unwrap the towel and drop it to the floor while his eyes followed the movement disinterestedly.

"Been there, seen that." He drawls cockily.

"True... But you haven't... '_Done_ _that_', have you? Don't you know it's the best part?" I tell him, flashing a saucy grin while I saunter up to him. He follows the sway of my hips with his eyes and it strays further down but I don't shy away from his scrutiny. In fact, it emboldens me.

"Care to elaborate...?" He replies, his mouth pouting slightly while he uses a hand to place on my side, under my arm and I shiver when his palm slides down to my waist. Thoughts of guilt wash over me for a while when I remember Conner but then I realize that this wasn't the time to think about the elusive bastard that got away. He feels the moisture of the remaining water from my bath and pulls his hand back, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "Why sis, I believe you're still wet."

"Am I?" I slip my hands under his shirt and he shivers imperceptibly. The movement would have escaped any other nitwit he fucked but it didn't escape me. I shove him to the nearest chair and straddle him, silently cursing and enjoying the sudden heat that pools in my stomach when I feel his hands on my back and then my upper body, purposely avoiding my breasts now that they seem to have become overly sensitized.

I am a traitor. I am. I'm a horny traitor and so is my entire body. Or maybe my body is the only one that's betraying me. In my head there was still _him_, and no matter how good Sebastian looked and felt while I touched him, there was still that sense of longing. I wouldn't expect you to understand. It's a hunger that threatened to literally eat me from the depths all that I am if I don't feed it first, and all it ever wanted was Conner.

Once I fucked Conner just to get Sebastian out. Now I'm flirting with Sebastian to get Conner out. It's amusing how life is at times.

I unzip his pants and leave him in his boxers while I slowly grind my hips against his hardening erection, now as obvious as the sky was infuriatingly bright. I hate myself for this craving to let him inside me, because in some ways I need to be filled. His head rolls back and I give a whimper of pleasure that at first turned out to be part of the act but eventually becomes real. He freezes and then slowly leans against the chair, his eyes are tightly shut and his mouth is partly open.

"Jesus." He groans when he feels the wetness seep through his boxers. Even though he has his eyes closed he is able to grab onto my hips while I go faster, dry humping him to a point where I can tell he's about to explode. I unbutton his shirt and take my time, kissing the exposed chest while he says my name in a moan I didn't think he meant to do.

"Do you really think…" I begin, willing myself with every inch of discipline I had (and it also helped that I conjured up Conner's face), "…That you could just come here…"

I bite teasingly on his nipple and subconsciously his hips begin thrusting up against mine. He doesn't talk. I don't think he's capable of talking at this point. One squeeze and I knew he'd get my chair stained so I was careful to keep the dry humping in moderation, even though he was making it difficult for me to by doing that thing… He was… doing…

_Oh, God._

"…And manipulate me into fucking you…?

I grip his hair and his eyes open wide in anguish, I see it just before I mash my mouth against his and he kisses me frantically in return, his tongue inserting itself in my mouth. The longing seeps through every pore in my body, but I know that just like every other time, I can't allow it to exceed a certain point because then I would remember him and I'd call Sebastian by that name and right now… Right now I didn't want to. Because he was Sebastian. I would like to remember it was him I was kissing.

I pull away and he takes my hand to place on his cock.

"God, I need you so badly right now."

"Did you deliberately plan to challenge me with that ploy earlier…?"

I squeeze him.

"Yes!" He gasps.

I slip my hand inside and begin stroking him, "And did you think you would… _succeed_?"

"It seems like I am…"

I squeeze him again, harder this time. It must have been too much for him because his face contorts with pain and he tries to push me off but I hold on steadfast.

"On the contrary… You're hard as a rock and horny as hell. At this point you would probably have to jack off or find some willing slut to alleviate your… condition." I let him go and stand up cheerfully, enjoying his shocked expression. "You do that while I get dressed, Valmont. I believe I just won your stupid challenge."

---

"You do know that I did not enjoy your magnificent display of being a cocktease earlier, right?" He says wearily an hour later, having once again changed into a different set of clothes ("_Because the ones I wore earlier reeked of you and I didn't want to leave the house smelling like a slut_")

I grin saucily at him, widening my eyes. "I believe you enjoyed it at first."

He remains quiet as we get into his car and at first I thought I had upset him somehow but as soon as the Jag slows down to a stop at the red light, he smiles at me.

"Well played, princess." Sebastian says instead and I feel relieved that I had not upset him. "So to show my appreciation for your brilliant use of strategy, I'll allow you the right of choosing what you'd like me to give you for your birthday."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

I glance at his journal and he follows my gaze.

"Alright." I reply simply, "I'd like the truth. Hand it to me."

His reflexes are quick and he catches my arm mid-reach.

"Not that." He says quickly.

"You said anything!"

The light turns green and once again the car rolls smoothly down the street. He's stuffed his journal on his left side under the seat, well beyond my reach. For a while I glare stonily at the passing scenery and he must have noticed my sudden change in mood because he pulls over with a sigh.

"I can't give you that." He says, "But I can give you a compromise. You'd like the truth? You can ask me anything you want to and I'll reply with absolute and brutal honesty."

Hmm… Interesting. I glance at him and already the wheels were turning in my head. He was offering to give me the truth about anything I wanted to know? This could be better than that stupid journal.

"How many questions do I get?"

He thinks for a moment.

"One."

"One! That's nothing!"

"Three." He concedes after a while. "Nothing more."

"What are you, like a stupid genie?"

"Why? Would you like to rub my bottle to get some answers?"

I shove him but I can't help but laugh at his ridiculous sexual innuendo.

"I'm giving you the chance to know things, Kathryn. You, the bringer of destruction and the destroyer of lives. Think about it. It's like I'm placing my head on the chopping block here, do you really think you're in a position to complain?"

"Alright." I grumble and he brings us to one of my favorite restaurants. While we wait for our order, I begin to cash in on his gift.

"First question. What did you first think of me when we met?"

"Seriously? We were kids, if I were to tell you I wanted to fuck you that would make me sound like a perverted kid." He shrugs, "But okay. I'll answer that. I didn't think of anything. I was just a kid then, Kathryn. You can't expect me to remember these things. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it wasn't love at first sight if that's what you were expecting."

I roll my eyes. He grins.

We both pause when our salads were served and while I picked idly at mine, I watch him surreptitiously. I am dimly aware of the women glancing at him, their attraction apparent. He doesn't seem to be aware of this at all. I try to remember the accident and everything that's happened, and here we were, still like this. Things were different now of course, but it still amazed me somewhat that we still got along from time to time.

_"My point is that I have nearly seventeen years' worth of facts and memories about you jammed inside my head. Granted the cab did hit me pretty hard, I can't just erase everything easily."_

I don't know why I suddenly remember that, but his comment in the past suddenly sends alarm bells in my head.

"Sebastian…" I say slowly and he looks up. "You once said you have seventeen years' worth of facts and memories about me in your head… Our parents were married when we were eight... I met you when I was only that age… How could you have known me before?"

He smiles and his dimple shows slightly, causing the blonde from another table to swoon.

"You don't remember? We became related when we were eight, but my dad and Tiffany knew each other before we were born. My dad… Well, I met you when I was one year old. My dad visited Tiffany and I went exploring around your house and I came into your room… The peach one, right? I had this new video camera and I was playing with it—"

"Your dad bought you a video camera when you were one year old??"

He shrugs, "I didn't like those plastic shitty toys."

"Brat."

"Oh, like you weren't as spoiled as I was? Anyway, that's how I remembered meeting you. Well, I didn't exactly meet you. My nanny was there, and there was your crib and I told her to lift me up. I saw you for the first time. I still have the video somewhere, but it's a little fucked up because I dropped the video camera a lot of times… I think she'd hold the camera for a while. There's a video of us somewhere but I forgot where. And um, that's kind of where I always went whenever my dad went to your house. My nanny she um…"

He hesitates.

"The truth, Valmont."

"She'd put me inside with you, okay? That happened until I was five. I'd bring that stupid camera with me and fool around with it… I think I let you press the buttons. You liked it, I think… I don't remember a lot though… But I watched the videos years ago and I think that's what happened… Then I went to live with my mom for a while but after the divorce, I lived with my dad. I was six and a half when I moved back to New York and eight when I saw you again."

"Your mom? You never told me about her. I told you about my father—"

He looks away from me.

"She died when I was seven." He replies curtly. "The car accident."

"How?"

"A car slammed into hers and she broke her neck, okay?" He answers testily, stabbing his salad with tense force.

"Oookay… Touchy subject much?"

"Yes. Leave it at that, Kathryn."

We eat in silence for a while and then he breaks the silence.

"I apologize." He tells me quietly. "It's not a good topic for me to talk about."

"Accepted… Now, what really happened with Annette?"

He holds up two fingers, "That's the second one."

"Yes, I can count." I reply sardonically.

"We were too different." He explains warily, eyeing me. "It's not because of you, Kathryn. Believe it or not my world doesn't just spin around your psychotic head… I think she was just something different at first, and it was fine. Everything was fine with us, but then it stopped." He shrugs, "We didn't get along like we used to. I thought I had changed, but it turned out I just remained as I am even though I didn't want to admit it to you directly. Your ego needs stroking as much as hell needs fire."

His eyes darken. He scowls slightly.

"But I tried to go back to you, didn't I? I think I was trying to tell you then… But you were such a stubborn little bitch I didn't know what else to do. So I went back to her, I thought that maybe I had overlooked things."

"She was the rebound fuck?"

"No." He cuts me off, shooting me a nasty glare. "I find you fascinating, Kathryn. But you want the truth? Sometimes you just tire me. I think that was one of those days when I just wanted to stop thinking about you."

I smile. "You were thinking about me?"

"I thought about you a lot, even when we were fighting." He replies bluntly, his eyes passing over a giggling twit who had been trying to catch his attention. He has that expression he gets when he's trying to hide a smug and superior smile, like he knows how good he looks and he's trying to make it seem like he has no idea. I knew it wouldn't pass his attention. "That was question three, I believe. There you go, happy birthday again."

"That wasn't the third question!" I protest, whining slightly. I found his unabated honesty refreshing and I didn't want it to end.

"Too bad, you shouldn't have wasted it on that kid thing."

"Come on, Sebastian…" I plead imploringly, widening my eyes slightly. My lower lip juts out. I blink once. Slowly. _Innocence portrayed perfectly._

I see him crash and fall even though he's not aware of it.

He relents. "Fine. One last."

"What's with the two week thing? I mean, what do you do?"

He looks at me silently, gauging my expression as though he's contemplating on whether or not to tell the truth.

"No."" He says in reply, drinking as though my question had caused his throat to dry up. "I can't, Kathryn. Not to you… I can't."

"Why?" I feel my anger rise, "You don't trust me?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"God, you are such an ass sometimes." I snap, stabbing the cucumber angrily while he watches me.

"Kathryn, you know how Conner has his fucked up thing with his back?"

"And…?"

"And well, you know how you have your own issues with drugs and whoring around?"

I'm starting to lose my patience. If it hadn't been for etiquette and that annoying urge to figure him out, I would have thrown something at him.

"I'm wondering as to whether or not it's your intention to piss me off with this analogy."

"What I'm saying is simple…" Sebastian reaches across the table and his thumb caresses my palm briefly, just long enough for it to bring me a sense of comfort and short enough for people not to notice.

"I'm fucked up, too. In my own way."

"I already know that."

"No… I mean… There are some things about me you don't know. I'm fucked up in other ways, Kate. Just understand that. It's not something I like talking about."

"Because you don't trust me."

"No. It's because I know you might you use it against me—"

"You're threatened by me?"

"No. If you use it against me, I'll fuck you up so badly there will never be another chance for… this. I don't want that to happen."

"Chance for this?"

"Yeah."

"What is 'this'?"

"Let's just say life without you would be severely boring. I'm sure you'd say the same thing about me."

"My, you're just full of it, aren't you?"

We eat with a companionable silence, miraculously getting along save for a few episodes of foul-mouthed bickering. As he signs the credit card receipt, he catches me looking at him.

Our eyes meet. Seconds tick by idly. It seems like a long time but it was only a fleeting glance. Questioning. Curious. I have known Sebastian Valmont for years and yet there is so much more to him than I had ever uncovered in the past. I see the worry lines so faintly on his forehead, the only sign of his past burdens.

"Will I ever know about it?" I ask him as we walk back to his car.

He places his hand on my lower back. Warm. Soft. Safe? Maybe.

He echoes the last word like he knows I had been thinking it.

"Maybe."

* * *

A/N: My birthday's coming up! 3-17, man don't I feel old? Anyway, as a sort of thank you to you guys, I'll update any story you want. Well, the story gets the most votes anyway. I'm kind of hoping it's this one, but it's anything. Although I have to be honest if you're going to ask for BGA and/or ABNTD you'd be giving me a lot of trouble although I do miss writing Belinda, Mathieu, and Nikolai. The same for DHr. I really can't relate well with Hermione's character. If you'll notice, I tend to do be better at writing fucked up and cruel people. But, yeah. Whatever goes. Oh, yeah. In the absence of Conner, I think I'm back on Team Seb. Okay, I'm hella tired so I _promise_ to reply to each of you in the next one. And since I'm in a chipper (albeit weary) mood, here's an excerpt from a currently unpublished piece I don't know when I'll publish here.  
_  
"Jesus, you… You think that's all you were to me, Kathryn? Some dirty little whore?"_

_You remain silent. You blow the smoke in his direction. "I know what and who I was to you. Your perfect fuck, Valmont."  
_

It's the hush hush piece I'm trying to finish before putting here. Nothing to say about that though, except that it's untitled so far. I've finished the first chapter and have the plot clear and distinct in my head.

Katie, here's the reply to your PM (I just read it) Yes, you'll see Isabel very soon, I can assure you. Conner wasn't the one who invited her to the wedding, but then again I'm just giving it all away huh? Mathieu, Sebastian and Kathryn? Menage trois? Lol, alright if you're nice a certain Mathieu De Comte _might_ make an appearance in this story. I've been known to do that once in a while. Parker Carmichael was in An Unlikely Story as part of the flashback, so yeah. You have a good chance of seeing Mathieu again even if it's just for a while. If I hadn't accidentally deleted the ending to BGA that story would've been done by now. Blah.


	14. Quârtus Decimus

_Drunk on ego, truly thought I could make it right_

_If I kissed you one more time to help you face the nightmare_

_But you're far too poison for me such a fool to think that I could_

_Wake you from your slumber, that I could actually heal you_

-A Perfect Circle

Sebastian's watching me closely. 

He doesn't think I notice, but how could I not?

I tap my foot impatiently while glancing at my Patek Philippe watch (incidentally Sebastian's birthday gift when I turned sixteen), feeling restless as his eyes continued to burn two clean holes at the back of my neck. As the teacher droned on about physics, I pretend to take down notes. I should really be paying attention but I couldn't bring myself to give a damn. I understood the lesson anyway.

Why was he watching me?

His flight to Spain was leaving tomorrow and I still hadn't given an answer as to whether or not I was coming with him. He hasn't tried to persuade me. In fact, he pretty much left it alone… And I was fine with that until he casually asked if he should book me a flight as well. The wedding had seemingly been an entire year away as the weeks passed and of course the bastard couldn't just let it remain that way. After that it occupied my mind constantly. Conner. I still wanted him.

When the moron teacher went to his table to get some handouts, I quickly turned to my stepbrother, glaring at him. I was right. He had been looking at me. He'd been growing his hair longer… Hmm. Funny how I never really noticed it. I liked it on him.

"Will you stop that?" I hiss while he only shrugs.

"Stop what?"

"Staring at me!"

His mouth curves upwards, "Sis, I can't believe you're so full of yourself."

"I could feel you looking at me, Valmont." I roll my eyes, keeping my voice hushed. "Will you stop? It's really annoying."

"Are you going with me tomorrow? To the wedding?"

"Do you want me to shove my pen down your throat?"

"Would _you_ like _me_ to shove my _pen_ down your…" He lowers his voice but the look on his face clearly finishes his sentence and due to the circumstances and the way he looked at me, I felt myself blush. Not in an adorable and completely endearing sense, mind you. It was more of a surprised and a bit mortified blush because while I would have expected this from him when we were alone, I never really considered the thought that he would say something like that to me while we were in public.

I shove him. "Sebastian!" 

"I was going to say something completely innocent." He protests but his eyes tell me otherwise. His gaze wanders off from me and to an almost pretty slut named Jenny. Or Jeannie. Or something equally foul like that. Jenny (Jeannie?) waves at him and he smiles at her, nodding once. I look at her disdainfully and then back at Sebastian as Professor Gardner exits the room to look for his stupid handouts.

"Oh, please do not tell me you went slumming with the class slut."

"I haven't had the chance to. You keep making it very hard for me to succeed with you."

He transfers to the empty seat near mine, which my boyfriend of the week Alexander Curtis had left unoccupied when he decided to flirt with some nameless wannabe who would probably indulge his weird fetishes.

"If you keep up with that I will seriously make you regret it when we get home."

"God, you're so uptight."

"It's because we're in class, Sebastian." I answer crisply, frowning at him. "Could you please be a bit more mature? Grow up."

"Grow up." He muses, his voice snide and hurt. "What? Like Conner? Be _mature_ like Conner and leave you, too?"

People were starting to glance at us. 

"Be quiet!" I tug his jacket sleeve but he pulls away and returns to his seat without another word. Sebastian is my stepbrother and most of the time a wonderful companion, but even though I enjoy his company there are times when I want to kill him. Today was one of those instances. It wasn't enough that I was contemplating on attending that fucking wedding or not, and of course there was the anxiety of waiting for the results from the colleges I'd applied to months ago, and now he just has to add to this.

Professor Gardner returns just as my phone vibrates in my back, informing me of an incoming call. I was expecting Sebastian to say something sarcastic like _"It must be one of your other loser fuckbuddies. You never seem to run out of those."_ But he remains stoically silent. I fish the phone out of my bag and I could have sworn the entire room dropped a few degrees when I realize it was Conner.

I politely excuse myself and leave the room hastily. My hand grows cold at as I flip my cell phone open. 

"Hello?"

"Please don't hang up… Kate, please just… Just listen."

I don't reply.

"I'm outside your school right now, can I see you?"

I don't run out like a goddamn eager lovesick teenager. I walk outside, my entire body is cold and stiff. My movements are jerky and so unlike me. I see him immediately even though he's partially obscured by the sunglasses he wore. As he sees me, he takes it off. I stare at him as I walk. His hair's longer now. I remember why he shaved it off.

_ You called me Sebastian._

I hold the now closed phone in my hand. Now we're inches apart. He watches me closely, studying me. 

I'll give him something to study.

Open palm. A snap. Crack. The impact against his cheek. My skin stings. His neck twists as he is caught off guard by the slap.

"I deserved that." He replies quietly, rubbing his cheek.

"You deserve more. I used to think highly of you, Conner. You came here and make me…" I pause. "Make me feel attached to you, and then you choose that stupid bitch over me. You're marrying her and you invited me to your wedding after what you did? Have you forgotten who I am? I should have taken everything from you."

"Isabel invited you… I had been out of the country and Alana prepared the guest list. We weren't planning to invite you but my sister must have considered it as an oversight because Sebastian was there and you weren't… So she added your name on the list. I just found out a few days ago and I knew you'd assume it was me so I—"

"Decided to come in person and make me feel like shit again?"

His thumb brushes against my chin and I swat his hand away.

"Don't."

"Kathryn…"

He tries again.

"Do not touch me or I swear I will scream."

We both hear the doors open as a few faculty members step out and I quickly grab his arm to pull him into the unfinished building where I had set Cecile and Ronald up. As we wait for the voices to fade, Conner grabs my arms and pushes me against the dusty wall.

"Don't!"

He kisses my neck and I push him away roughly.

"You can't do this to me again, you bastard!"

He licks his mouth. How I hated myself for wanting to taste him again. He runs his hand through his curly hair, his eyes flashing darkly with immense desire.

I slap him again, only this time it isn't as strong as before. He knows it. He knows me so well I loathed him for it.

He grabs my face and kisses me, holding so tightly I couldn't shrug free of him.

"No!" I turn my neck but he only kisses the skin there. His hand massages my breast and I hear myself gasping.

"I won't be your whore." I mutter, slapping his arm halfheartedly while he unbuttons my blouse.

Conner finally stops.

"You're not." He answers. "You're not, Kathryn."

I touch his face, not at all scared by his earlier roughness. He meant to take me hard, and it was how I had wanted him to take me should he come back. None of the stupid lovemaking crap. He closes his eyes when my fingers trail down his jaw.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, "I'm being selfish. I shouldn't…"

"Are you going to marry her?"

"I don't know." He kisses my forehead, turning into the same old Conner I knew. "I missed you though. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come back like this. You were fine… You were okay again and I'm fucking it up."

"Your reverse psychology shit is very transparent."

He seems surprised at my comeback but he can't find anything else to say because then I am kissing him and nothing goes on inside my head except that hunger. I needed to be filled. I needed him to fill me.

It was nothing fancy. Nothing graceful. It lasted for a few minutes and I had my legs wrapped around him while he panted and stifled his own groans.

I stared at him when I came.

I looked beautiful.

I looked satisfied.

Pure.

Conner, on the other hand, was the same. He pushed against me without holding back like he knew we had very limited time. My reputation could turn to shit if someone walked in on us but I didn't care.

After that he held me tightly for a while. Like I was loved. Like I was the one he was going to marry. Only I wasn't, was I?

The whore. The other woman. I should hate him. I can't. I went back to my class flushed but I had fixed myself beforehand. Conner and I had talked. We made plans. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. All I knew was that I wanted to do it.

Sebastian had no idea. He usually did… But now he doesn't. He ignores me until later on that night.

Something fascinating happens then. I had been browsing through his book collection when I noticed his drawer had been partially open. There was a photograph of a stunningly beautiful young woman whose age I couldn't guess. Fifteen? Seventeen? Somewhere in between. Her legs were long and tanned, reminiscent of a model's. Her black hair was long and iron straight, flying about her as the photograph captured a moment of her dancing and laughing. Her eyes were the deepest green and her smile was wide and filled with mirth. A dancer? The background was a garden, nothing familiar that could be from a vacation place… It seemed to have been taken inside a private residence. I flipped it and found nothing scribbled on the back.

A conquest? No. The picture had been developed with great care. Sebastian usually tore up a photo from the yearbook hastily. I briefly wondered if this was the girl he'd fallen in love with at fourteen. Was this the one Edward fucked? I had no idea what happened. I never knew about it until Blaine told me since I had been shipped off to boarding school and only returned at fifteen.

I made a mental note to ask Blaine. I knew it was something I couldn't ask him.

I stared at her smiling face and wondered.

_ Are you the one who fucked him up before I did?_

--- 

Conner. Sex. Sweat. Deliciously wrong and forbidden. Was I forever attracted only to those?

I was rummaging through my closet when Sebastian enters my room. His eyes survey the scene.

"You're coming with me?"

"Yes."

"Kathryn... Can we talk?"

"About?"

"Earlier."

"What about it?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"For being an immature prick? Sure. It's fine."

"Will you please stop that and look at me?"

I didn't want to. He might see Conner and the thing that had happened earlier.

"I said it's okay, Sebastian. Will you leave now?"

"Look at me."

I sigh, placing my folded blouse on the bed. When I turn around, he's seated on my chair.

"It's just odd." He explains, "It's always been just us, Kathryn. I'm not used to having anybody else get to you like he can. Sometimes you call me Conner and it's like you're continuously comparing me with him. I just needed you to react… To be _there_. Lately it's like you're not."

"Your point…?"

"I don't know what my point is." He shrugs, "I just like teasing you once in a while. I'm sorry if I went too far. I know how sensitive you get when we're in public. I don't want to fight with you anymore… Okay?"

Looking at him like that, at that point, so apologetic and unassuming… I almost felt guilty. I reach over and ruffle his hair, smiling.

"You're such a boy."

He grins. I grin back.

So innocent. So… ignorant.

My Sebastian.

He kisses my cheek and reminds me of our flight the following morning. He has his cigarette break out of my balcony again just like before and as I finally drift off, I feel his palm against my shoulder.

"Goodnight, Kathryn."

"I'm sorry, Sebastian."

He looks at me quizzically, his blue eyes are wide and trusting. Conner. Sex. God.

"About what?"

"The accident."

The slight suspicion goes away and he pulls up the covers to shield me from the cold.

"I forgive you."

* * *

A/N: I'll do this quickly. I'm sorry for the typos here (if there are any) and for the possibility of a lot more to come. One of my many flaws is that I don't possess the virtue of patience, meaning when I'd like to post, I usually (unfortunately) hurry up and I tend to overlook a few things. Okay, that's it. I can't talk at the moment I'm tired as hell. 

Oh, except probably for Katie (sorry!), and B (happy birthday to you in case I don't update on 3-20)


	15. Quintus Decimus

_  
_

_ This is the straw, final straw in the_

_ Roof of my mouth as I lie to you_

_ Just because I'm sorry doesn't mean_

_ I didn't enjoy it at the time._

-Snow Patrol

I hate Sebastian.

No, I really do. I want to strangle him right now.

"Kathryn, quit staring at me."

"I am not staring at you." I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm glaring at you."

"Glaring at me?" Sebastian rolls his eyes, stretching his long legs while he leans back against the plastic chairs of the airport. His hair, usually short and cropped, was now longer and it looked unkempt due to the taxing flight we had endured. His sleeves were rolled up and he had unbuttoned a few buttons during his moments of frustration and unrest. "Do you honestly think I enjoy the fact that the fucking plane had some sort of technical problem? Do you think I'm happy because I'm stuck here with you, especially now that you're so fucking crabby you're ready to bite my head off? Trust me, Kathryn. You're the last person I'd want to be stuck in this kind of situation with."

"You could have gotten us a better flight! It's your fault we missed the one we were supposed to be on. It's your fault that instead of suffering for seven fucking hours, I'm now condemned to spend more with you in Jamaica! Christ, Sebastian! Where were you anyway??"

"Okay, first of, we are not in Jamaica. I would think that having spent three hours here, you would finally use your usually intelligent brain and realize that we are in Colombia. I can't imagine why you're mouthing off, anyway. Colombia, Kathryn. You know, coke? You? Cokewhore? Colombia? It's like Disneyland for you. In fact, you should be jumping up and down right now."

I hit him as hard as I can. He rolls his eyes again.

"You're so immature."

"Motherfucker."

"You're—"

I stop talking as soon as we realize that there was an announcement regarding our flight.

Delayed.

Now I really hated him.

"Get a different flight!" I hiss darkly, "You do not want me around you right now, Valmont. Trust me. I can't be held accountable if I killed you tonight."

"I already tried!" He growled, looking murderous as well. I wouldn't be surprised if he strangled me right now. "The next one's tomorrow, okay?"

"I can't wait until tomorrow!" I whine, "I feel filthy. I've been here for God knows how long with you, of all people!"

"Of course," He barks back, his voice sarcastic. "You'd rather be stuck with Conner. Oh, if Conner were here the plane wouldn't have had any problems!" He does a perfect impression of my voice, adding a falsetto to it. "If perfect fucked up Conner were here, I'd be in the bathroom getting fucked because I'm a dirty home wrecking whore!"

I gasp and slap him. He is so unaware how close he's hitting that one. Whatever guilt I may have had the other night completely disappeared. Now I feel extremely smug that I have Conner again and the stupid blond bastard in front of me was too oblivious to notice.

I stand up and grab my bag, "What time's the flight??"

"Ten!"

"Great!" I yank my coat off the seat, "I'll meet you here then! I'm not spending the night with you!"

"Of course, you'd much rather spend it stuffing your nose with your precious—"

"Be. Quiet."

"Fine. Leave." He replies stubbornly, looking away.

I do. Stupid ass. I storm to the nearest information counter, booking a hotel room and fishing out my Visa to pay for it. As I look back at him, I realize he was gone. Goddamn Sebastian. I needed a drink before I left so I look for the bar... Or at least a place where they served alcohol.

…And that is where I find him.

He's at the bar, clearly with the same idea I had. He already had a cold glass in his hand. His third, I think. He looks tipsy.

I order a Cosmopolitan calmly and Sebastian turns at the sound of my voice. He squints a little and a woman takes a seat beside him, obviously trying to catch his attention.

I glare at him.

He holds up his hands in surrender, turning away from me. When the cheap looking big breasted blonde whore leans in closer to say something to him, I take a sip of my drink sullenly. I was still pissed off.

They're giggling like idiots now. Okay, this is just ridiculous. I wasn't a stranger to how women threw themselves at him but getting hit on and picked up inside an airport is just fucking surreal.

He stands up and stumbles slightly. The woman was all too eager to have a chance to wrap her arms around him. I wasn't all too trusting of the woman, and my stepbrother didn't look like he was in the right state of mind.

"Sis," He smiles hazily, looking up at me. "This is Candy… She just got back from… Well, I don't know where… But we're going to this club tonight, don't wait up for me."

"The hell you are." I pull him away from the woman, staring her down. "Are you insane? You don't know her! This isn't like New York, you moron."

"Shhh…" He places a finger on my lips, laughing softly. "It's fine… You're getting rid of me, right? So… I'll meet you here tomorrow… I'm checking my luggage tonight so it won't be a hassle… Just bringing my bag right…here… Bye!"

I pull harder this time and he stumbles. He curses before righting himself.

"You won't be able to meet me here tomorrow if you've been sliced into a million pieces. She doesn't even look like she's going somewhere. She looks like a fucking prostitute."

"Fine… So come with us."

"And be killed and robbed along with you? I don't think so."

He pulls away from me and murmurs the name of the place in my ear before heading to leave.

I finish my drink and take a taxicab to the hotel, hating that I had to and hating Sebastian more and more because he was being an irresponsible moron.

"Prick." I mutter later on, settling inside my suite. The bed feels so warm and comfortable it seduced me with its promise of letting me rest.

Let him get fucked and killed.

All bloody and intoxicated. The prostitute could be a guy. He could get raped and kicked the shit out of.

_Argh!_

"Fucking. Fool." For an intellectual man, he could sometimes be a fucking idiot.

I take a bath.

Blood. Cars. Taxi cabs?

Before I know it, I'm standing outside the bar he'd gone to. He's going to owe me in the morning.

---

I've attended a lot of parties: wild, uncouth, and elegant alike. Right now, however, I am not in the mood for such things. The loud music seems to blare in my ears, adding to my already painful headache. I get hit on but like I said, I wasn't in the mood. I brush them off easily and somehow end up in the middle of the dance floor. I can't find my fucking stepbrother and it's pissing me off.

I definitely need a drink now.

I'm sweaty, alone, and angry.

One.

Two.

No, I'm not interested. Please fuck off. I have a boyfriend. Who? That guy (I pointed vaguely at some muscled guy who looked ready to tear limbs off).

Three.

Four.

Straight up.

And the world seems brighter.

A song comes on. Sensual, and yet somehow… primitive. Did that make sense? What kind of music were these people into? The subtle beats seem to make the walls vibrate and the blinking lights, although it has seized to stop hurting my eyes, still worsens my headache.

Screw the prostitute. I was going to kill him myself. I'm intoxicated and I'm going to blame him for it. I'm going to kill him and blame it on the alcohol.

A pair of strong arms suddenly goes around my waist and I feel myself pressed against a muscled, familiar torso.

"Dance with me." Sebastian whispers in my ear intimately, his anger toward me is forgotten due to the amount of alcohol he's ingested.

"Let me go."

"Just one… Please, Kathryn… Just one… Just tonight."

Pleading. His voice was low and strangely erotic sounding. Was it just me?

"Where's the blonde?"

His hands wander all over my upper body, cupping my breasts before his fingers settle on my abdomen. Surges of heat burn inside me when he does that and I stop struggling. He feels good against me. I lean my neck against his chest and my hips seem to move on its own as I match his movements.

"I left the blonde." He continues and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. "I thought you already knew that?"

Teasing… Flirtatious… I can deal with that.

But then he does that… That… _thing_.

He lowers his head and starts kissing my neck and I bite my lower lip and close my eyes. God help me. I'm allowing him. I feel the moist wetness of his warm mouth against my skin and he pulls me tighter against him to protect me from the crowd. I feel him harden.

"No." I whisper. He doesn't hear me. Fuck. I didn't hear myself.

He slowly spins me until we are facing each other and he stares at me intensely, his full mouth a dark pink shade while he eyes burn into me intently.

"Dance with me." He says again and before I can reply, he slips an arm around my waist.

I am a traitor. I am. _Again_.

My entire body feels like someone else is controlling it. By a different Kathryn who didn't give a shit about what everybody else though, by a stepsister who danced so intimately with her stepbrother in front of an audience and by a daughter who despised her mother and didn't hold back on letting it be shown… A drunk Kathryn.

"My Kathryn." He begins; his voice is so seductive it is almost hypnotic. I place my arms on his shoulders and move slowly against him, enjoying how he felt… Enjoying how this made me feel.

The lights no longer served as a nuisance, but rather, a brilliant display that reflected my hazy thoughts and irrationality (it was inconsistent and colorful).

It brought out the deep blue of his eyes.

Closer. I didn't think it was possible, but he does it. It's like I'm rubbing against him now and he's brushing back the slightly sweaty bangs from my face before his hands trace the curves of my body.

A low moan escapes my mouth.

He stops moving and we stand there in the middle of the dance floor staring at each other.

"I hate you." I tell him.

"I hate you more." He replies, his eyes are fixed on my mouth. His tongue moistens his lips and I follow the movement.

"There you are, baby…" A low voice interrupts us but Sebastian continues staring at me. It's the blonde he left with. She seems to notice me only now because her eyebrows shoot up and suddenly she looks ready to do something crass and common, like shove me. "I've been looking all over for you…" She croons at him but he doesn't seem to hear her.

"I'm… busy at the moment, Cindy."

"It's Candy." She looks annoyed, "Come on, I got us drinks…"

She takes his hand and begins to pull him from me but again (this is from a different Kathryn), I grab her arm and pull it off Sebastian's.

"Not yours." I say quietly and he smiles a little at that. "Mine. He's mine. All… miiiine…"

"Listen, you—"

I give her a long, steady glare. She gets it and mumbles as she leaves.

I feel dizzy now. Well, dizzy and fucking horny from what he'd been doing to me, but I'm going to stick with the former. If I succumbed to the latter, I will fuck things up more.

"Yourshh?" He questions, grinning stupidly.

"I jus' did that to… ssssave your ass." I remark, shouting over the loud music as my voice feels like it comes out in slow motion. "You're… You're goingto thank me iiiin the morn—"

I can't speak anymore.

His mouth is on mine and his hands are all over me, slipping under the top of my dress and caressing my breasts. He's going to fuck me in public. Great. We're drunk and he's planning to fuck me in public.

I'm kissing him back. Oh, even better. We're drunk, he's planning to fuck me in public, and I want him to. I almost want him to.

Oh, God I want him to.

"Wait." I moan in his ear and he hugs me tighter. "People, Sebastian… We're in front of… Oh, fuck… Yesss…"

He's rubbing me _there_. Through my panties and my dress while he continues kissing me.

Rationality (or perhaps a small portion of it) gets the best of me because I push him away, panting.

"Not here." I'm mumbling at this point.

He kisses my forehead. He can't seem to stop touching and kissing me. I want to kill myself because at that point I didn't want him to stop either.

"Seb… Not… here…"

_Not here. Not now. Not ever._

I initiate the kiss. His mouth. I wanted to erase dark haired girl in the photograph from it. Who is she? Does he want her more than he wants me?

Maybe he was trying to do the same. Erase from Conner from my head. Do I want Conner more than I wanted him?

I don't know. Can I have them both? Please?

He pulls away.

"Please…" He tells me quietly, his mouth near my ear. "Please, Kate."

"Yes." I reply foolishly, too into everything else to bother. _Fuck, yes._

He takes my hand and maneuvers our way out of the dance floor. Every so often he'd check to see if I'm alright and after a guy attempts to squeeze my ass, he wraps his arm around me. I snuggle closer, comforted by the warmth of his body no matter how sweaty he was.

The world was fucking _beautiful_.

The cab ride was the longest of my life. Whatever reservations I had were so far away as he climbs on top of me, smiling that charming smile of his while he brings his mouth to my breasts. The cab driver certainly got a show.

When we arrive at the hotel, it felt like I couldn't stop anymore. I was drowning and it was too late to be saved.

We reach my room. _Finally_.

He unzips my dress and I unbutton his shirt, pushing it past his shoulders. His naked chest was slightly tanned and gloriously muscled, not too much and yet the strong definition of his pectorals still showed. I hug him while he caresses my breast with his mouth as I close my eyes in sheer bliss. When he frees himself from his boxers, I am suddenly aware of what was to happen next. He had already taken off my panties and although I am still slightly drunk and irrational, again it seems I have a moment of lucidity. This is the stubborn bitch again. Queen Kathryn. The one whose pride exceeded everything else.

"No." I suddenly mumble, pushing him away the way I did Conner.

"Oh, God don't do this to me." He places his hand on my mons. He felt how ready I was with his fingers and I cursed my own body. However beautiful, it was traitorous to me.

"I can't let you win… Can't…" I mumble, turning away.

Sebastian stops.

He gets off me, his face unreadable. If I didn't know better I'd swear he's sober again.

"I'm not going to win even if we do… this."

My brain was a puddle at that point.

"Wha… What?"

Stroking his hair. Stroking his erection. Wanting him more and loathing myself for doing all of these things.

"I'm not going to win even if we had sex." He answers, looking down at me. "Because it's not what I wanted from you. I wanted _you_,"

He cups my face and presses his mouth against mine again. Vodka. It was his favorite.

"But I can't have that, can I? You're not going to let me win. If anything, Kathryn, you're going to make me lose even more because I'm going to know what it's like… And I didn't want to know. Not anymore… Notafter _him…"_

He's slurring now. Again. Foolish and belligerent.

"Not aaahffffter him… Will you let me… Let me in…?"

Enough.

I make a decision at that point. He looks so vulnerable, sad, and yet still very much the same cold hearted bastard all at the same time. It was such a beautiful sight.

I grab him and he slides inside of me easily. He murmurs my name. Quietly at first. Then he's yelling it. I'm yelling nonsense as well. Full of curse words and commands and pleas…

Drunken Kathryn.

Faster.

Harder.

Go deeper.

I am a fucking sinner.

Yes… **YES!**

I said his name when I came.

His name. Then I thought of the other Valmont. Can't I really have both? Sebastian Conner Valmont. A dark curly haired, blue eyed, pale skinned boy with a full mouth that said and did things to me.

When I woke up before he did, I went to the bathroom and locked myself in. I scrubbed my body until I felt raw and cleansed from the night and its insane obscurity.

I called Conner.

He sounds sleepy. I felt the guilt again. Nagging. Biting. Punishing me for my nature.

"Tell me you slept with her today."

"What?"

"Tell me you fucked your fiancée."

"Kathryn…?"

"Tell me." My voice hardened. Then it almost cracked. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed him. I hated him.

"Yes." He replies, "I did. I'm so—"

"No. No apologies." I pause.

"What's this about?"

"Nothing."

---

I have slight scratches all over my body when morning comes. I make sure I am dressed when I enter the bedroom again, just in time to see my stepbrother open his eyes.

Thud... Thud… _Slower_.

The morning after. The awkwardness. The questions. Fuck._ More, more, more. I want more, Kathryn. More sex, more of you, more of this. What's this? Who am I to you now? Do you hate me? Love me? Feel nothing for me? All of it?_

_Answers. Where are they?_

He sits up the bed and rubs his eyes before giving a groan. He clutches his head and groans again.

"Kathryn?" He asks cautiously, glancing at me.

"What?"

He pauses and then frowns like he's trying to think of something.

"What happened last night?" I scratches his head again and peeks under the covers, finding himself nude. "Who did I go here with? What happened? I don't remember anything."

"You don't remember?"

Jesus. Is it even possible that I get to be this lucky?

_Dance with me. My Kathryn._

_No, not yours. He's mine._

He eyes me, "No. Why? Did you see who it was?"

"Yes." I lie, "Just some slut."

He glances at me for a while.

"Oh. Where is she?"

"I ran into her earlier when I went here."

"I… booked a suite?"

"No. I did. I just arrived at the club, picked your drunken ass up and your ditzy bitch decided to come along. She had her hand down your pants and I realized I wouldn't be able to sleep while you fucked her so I paid for another room. The one next to this."

The truth was, I arranged for the other room to be prepared while my skin felt like it had been grated and scraped viciously. I had stared at him before I quietly packed my belongings and left. I slept fully clothed and sore all over.

He winces again and I indicate the pills I had placed on the side table.

"That'll help."

He stares at me suspiciously.

"It will!"

"Like I'm going to trust you." He smirks. I look at his mouth. I remembered all the things that mouth did to me. "You hate my guts, remember? We had that stupid fight at the airport because you were being a whiny brat… Do you really think I'm going to take these just because you said it'll help?"

"Fine." I snarl, frowning at him.

I'm trying not to remember how he felt inside of me.

"Fine indeed." He slides off the bed, his modesty lacking as he forgoes to cover himself up. "I'm going to take a shower. You can wait for me here so we can get to Madrid and attend that stupid wedding. At least by then I'll be able to get rid of you."

"Oh, go fuck yourself." I call out. He only slams the door in reply.

---

We haven't spoken since we boarded the plane. It has now been thirty minutes. I glance around the first class area, bored out of my skull. There was a fat businessman whose buttons seemed to scream and almost pop out as his large gut protruded from his expensive suit, a sullen looking woman who had a severe overbite and yet bore the telltale large diamonds that made me surmise she was nouveau riche, and as Sebastian only stared wordlessly out the window, I suddenly notice a pair of light brown eyes glancing right back at me.

I blink and he only smiles before raising his hand slightly as if to greet me.

I nod coolly, not really in the mood to entertain anybody at the moment.

He only smiles at that. His brown hair is slicked back from his forehead and he looked about Conner's age, maybe a bit older. A woman walks past me and I see fine blonde corkscrew curls past her slim shoulders. She looks familiar, I may have seen her in a few magazines but her name escaped me. She takes a seat beside the man and he whispers something to her.

The woman meets my gaze and her gray eyes narrow before the same amused smile reaches her pink full mouth. Annoyed at how they seemed to share a joke at my expense, I glare at the couple. I assume that they were a couple by the way she leaned against him and the way he held her hand. I was good at reading people. But at this point I couldn't read them as well as I know I could have.

"Kathryn?"

Surprised at the sudden mention of my name, I face my stepbrother.

"What did she look like?"

"Excuse me?"

"The… You know, the one last night."

"You mean, was she really a guy?" I smirk, trying to hide the truth from him.

"No… I just… I wanted to remember."

"Why? It's not like she's the first one night stand you've ever had."

He finally stops staring outside as he turns to look at me, his expression is a mixture of hesitance and caution.

"She felt different." He simply replies, "I don't know how else to explain it."

"Please," I scoff, "This isn't like one of those stupid movies wherein you fuck her and then find out through sex that she's _The One_."

"I didn't say that." He says crisply, looking affronted. "I remember everything else. How she felt, how she fucking tasted, every fucking thing. Not her face. Not her voice. I can't remember and when I try to, I get a fucking headache."

"She wasn't a disgusting, toothless and ugly hag if that's what you're worried about."

"That's not what I was worried about. Like I said, it just seemed… different. Haven't you ever felt that way?"

"Are we having a Hallmark moment? Would you like me to get a tissue and ask the pilot to take us back to Colombia so you could post flyers for your mystery girl and live happily ever after with her?"

A wry and twisted smile graces his face.

"You're such a bitch. Sometimes I don't know why I even talk to you."

"Yes, I am." I reply breezily, pressing the Call button because I needed to aid of alcohol yet again to get through this trip. "Do try to remember that instead of trying to find your one night fuck. She's gone, Valmont."

"Too bad. She could have taught you a thing or two."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He laughs coldly at my disgruntled face.

Stupid bastard.

_"Yes… God yesss…" I held on to him while his entire body went stiff as he came. I followed soon after._

_Brilliant. Perfect. Oh, fuck yes. If I am a cheating whore, then I'm a fucking contented cheating whore right now._

_"Sebastian."_

_A half yell. The contractions were so intense I almost felt my heart stop._

_He collapsed on top of me and I cradled his head against my breasts, stroking his sweaty hair._

_He kissed the lower part of my breast._

_"This wasn't how I thought it'd be."_

_"Elaborate."_

_He looked up at me and we smiled at each other, blissful and unmindful of the consequences. We were drunk. We were excused from attempting to make rational excuses. I could hate him later. I could hate myself later as well._

_"It was better." He kissed me again and again, his mouth is warm and wet and so plump I wanted to continue kissing him and never have to wake up sober again._

_I chuckled, "Seriously?"_

_"Seriously. Being inside you is the best feeling in the world."_

_I laughed at his honesty, so very much like a child with his tone. I brought him closer to me and licked his mouth, tasting him.  
_

_He stayed there like he trusted me. I caressed him like I loved him._

"Fuck you, Sebastian."

"Fuck you too, Kathryn."

* * *

A/N: Can anybody guess which psychotic pair will make a very brief cameo in this chapter, as well as a few upcoming ones? Nobody knows? Okay… I'm fulfilling a promise I made, so I'm borrowing Mathieu and Belinda from BGA for a while. They'll be very minor characters in this one, seeing as how they already have had enough of the spotlight in AIE/BGA. For those of you who don't know who they are, they were in Alea Iacta Est and Bella Gerant Alii. They're the first two original characters I ever really created so I'm a bit fond of them. In that aspect, they're like Conner Valmont's older siblings, Conner being the most recent one I've created. 

B: Yes, you do owe me a review for the Untitled one. Cheater. You already read the first chapter before everybody else could. ☺

Celeste: Thank you very much! Alexander Curtis was mentioned merely in passing, however. I'm already going to manage 3 original characters I'll go nuts if I added him to the roster. The girl in the photo… Well, you'll see very soon. I'm great at this being mysterious thing mwahahaha

Katie: Goodbye, you. ☺

Sandsagent: Can you say that to the people who'll interview me when I try to get into the writing program next term:D

Princess Mel: Honestly? I've no idea what'll happen next either. I started the chapter with absolutely no intention of having them sleep together but somehow it ended up there.

Urangel: Never hurry, never worry. There will be more. ☺

Fanfic reader: Well, since this is the only story I update these days, I'm not sure if you're going to read this but you mentioned that you read all my stories so I'm hoping you're reading this one right now. If you are, then thank you very much for the review. I'm actually a bit embarrassed if you did read everything because some of them are just… Blah. I try to really dig into them, so thanks for the compliment… It's weird because I have an easier time writing Sebastian more than Kathryn. I miss Keri's work though. Kinda sick of mine. :-P Oh! Go read An Unlikely Story! It remains to be my absolute fave out of everything I've written! It's in my favorites!


	16. Sextus Decimus

_At the center of the world_

_There's a statue of a girl_

_She is standing near a well_

_With a bucket bare and dry_

_I went and looked her in the eyes_

_And she turned me into sand_

_This clumsy form that I despise_

_It scattered easy in her hand_

-Bright Eyes

We arrive in Madrid exhausted and not on very good terms. It must have been the trip itself (because it was very tiring and I'm not the type of person who sat well with waiting) but Sebastian and I carry a civil silence the moment we step out of the plane. It was ten in the morning and the sunlight that filtered through the glass windows of the airport makes me squint as we make our way to the Immigration. Sebastian, aside from a few side glances, remains stoic and sullen all throughout the uneventful trip and as we take our place into the line, I realize we were right behind the brown haired man and the blonde gray eyed woman I'd seen on the plane. From this point of view, he seems bigger. He had broad shoulders, which were now only covered by a simple button down shirt with the sleeves folded, a sure sign that he was adjusting to the weather. The woman was tapping her foot impatiently, every so often glancing at her cell phone as though she expected a call. Her carry on bag was slung over her shoulder and her dress looked a little wrinkled but they were speaking in low voices. French. Their accents gave me the impression that they resided in Paris.

A piece of paper fell from my open passport and it fluttered in the air before landing in front of their feet. Immediately, they stop talking and as the man meets my gaze, I could have sworn the woman smirked at him as if she knew something he didn't.

He bends over and picks it up, one hand brushing back his hair while the other hands me the paper. It was just some meaningless receipt I had stuffed in my passport but I didn't tell him that.

Sebastian watches the exchange curiously but he doesn't say anything.

The man's eyes rest on my stepbrother before settling on me.

"Hello." He finally speaks, slipping back into the English language easily.

"Thank you." I take the paper from him and he grins at me. The woman nudges him and murmurs something in French. Obviously they've assumed I didn't understand it.

_Oh, darling. Another one? Really? Aren't you tired of it?_

He places his hand on her wrist,

_Now, now dear Belinda. Not too possessive._

He extends his hand out, "My name is Mathieu de Comte."

"Kathryn Merteuil."

I shake his hand and Sebastian rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Merteuil… This is Belinda Van Ryan, my… friend."

There was a distinct tone in the way he said friend that made me wonder about just how much of a friend she really was. Nevertheless, manners and etiquette dictate me and I can tell that she was also raised the same way. She merely smiles a dazzling smile that had graced a few magazines I had thumbed through in passing as she shakes my hand, never taking her gray eyes off me. They were such an intense pair that I am oddly reminded of Sebastian and how he would look at me sometimes.

_Oh, like that night?_

_Harder. Ride me harder, Kathryn. I want you more and more and more I'm never stopping Oh God yesyesyesyesyesyes…_

I introduce Sebastian and he does the same, his gaze flickering and then pausing over the model's features. I could tell he liked what he saw. It figures. The resemblance was very faint but it's there, her facial structure was vastly different but they almost had the same mouth and the same hair. Wasn't there a theory about how we're attracted to people who look like us? Maybe people are inherently vain. It gives a whole new twist on the expression "Go fuck yourself.", doesn't it?

"Are you here on vacation?"

"A wedding, actually. We're attending Sebastian's cousin's wedding."

"Valmont…" He muses, "Conner Valmont?"

"Yes."

Mathieu laughs, "What a coincidence. We're guests to that wedding as well. Belinda and Conner were… well, they were involved. I had undergone a few business deals with Daniel Valmont's company so I decided to come along."

"Involved is a nice term, darling." Belinda purrs but I feel my blood boil. "We're merely acquaintances."

"I do recall you telling me how you've gotten acquainted with him several times."

"Mmm." She gives a smoldering and misty look as though remembering what had happened between Conner and her. "Don't be silly. He's like a brother to me."

"If he's like a brother to you, then you have a very twisted way of looking at familial relationships."

I can't help it. I glance at Sebastian and I see him smirking. My lips twitch into a smile. There it is. A private moment. An inside joke. Sometimes I can't help it. When you're as close to someone as I am with Sebastian, there are times when you share something so impulsively that you don't even notice it at all.

"Perhaps I just show my affection for him very differently the way I do you."

He squeezes her hip, "Ah, but then again it's different for young Nikolai as well, yes?"

"Don't be jealous, Nikolai's the love of my life. You're the other one."

"By definition, I think you're only supposed to have one."

"Well," she replies breezily. "I'm not like most people, am I, Mathieu?"

"I completely agree."

They get called to the counter and they say their goodbyes to us, Mathieu's gaze lingers on my face slightly and unknowingly (and for reasons I can't explain), we share a smile. A secret smile, like we really knew each other despite the fact that up until minutes ago, we were complete strangers.

"Hmm…" Sebastian muses as we watch them conversing, "Spanish and French… You're really into fostering foreign relationships, aren't you?"

I shoot him a dark look, "Don't be a prick, Sebastian."

"I'll stop when you stop being a bitch, which is very unlikely."

"Why the hell are you pissed off at me?"

He opens his mouth and thinks better of it.

"Forget it. You wouldn't understand."

---

We arrive shortly at the villa just as a young woman of twenty-four takes a stroll out on the spacious gardens of the Valmont estate. Even from afar I see her black hair curling in beautiful loose waves down her back, accompanied by Conner. Like him, she had the palest skin and they were talking with their heads bent together, as though conferring intimately. I had seen them do that a lot. Sometimes I wonder if Sebastian and I ever looked like that when we were supposed to look like siblings. They hadn't noticed us get out of the car but I can see Sebastian's eyes light up at the sight of her. I almost felt jealous.

"Isabel." He calls out, sounding almost relieved to have a reason to be separated from me. Well, fine. Did he think I wanted to spend more time with him, especially after that _thing_ that had happened? That stupid and moronic thing that I wished I could forget?

Her blue-violet eyes widen and she smiles before placing a hand on Conner's arm as if to excuse herself. He doesn't say anything. He only stares at me quietly and despite everything else that had happened, I still feel a twinge of excitement upon seeing him again. I allow myself a smile and he raises a hand to wave back, mirroring my smile. He whispers something to his sister before turning to head inside the house, bowing his head slightly as he went past the pillars and into the doorway. I was disappointed but I didn't show it. Instead, I paste a forced grin, which turns real as soon as Isabel reaches us. I got along with her well. In fact, she was actually one of the very few females I respected.

"Little cousin," She greets Sebastian with a kiss on the cheek before turning to me with a smile. "Step-cousin."

"Duchess." Sebastian returns, squeezing her hand lightly. I only comply with a grin.

"Lady Isabel will do, Sebastian. Thank you." She goes along with the joke, chuckling. "I do apologize on my brother's behalf. He told me to tell you that he'd wanted to welcome you personally but he had other matters to attend to."

Sebastian smirks at me. I wanted to slap the smug look off his face. Didn't he know that a week ago I was with Conner? Stupid moron. How could I ever have allowed him to fuck me?

"I'm sure… What, with the _wedding_ and all."

He emphasizes the word 'wedding' so imperceptibly but my ears prick up at it and I only glare at him. Isabel catches on and glances at me quizzically before a smile blossoms on her mouth.

"At it again?" She comments, looking amused.

"At what? We weren't doing anything."

"Please. I've seen you both look at each other that way before. You," she gestures at me, "want to rip his throat out. And you," she motions to Sebastian, "want to strangle her."

"I suppose it would be more accurate if I wanted to castrate him, but I should only be so lucky." I sigh.

She leads us to the manor, ignoring the few admiring glances she seemed to be getting from the gardeners.

"What's wrong?"

"Sebastian fucked this slut in Colombia and now he's planning to write an entire romantic novel around it."

"I am not!"

"You should have seen him go on and on about it…_ 'She was the one, Kathryn… Now my life will never be complete without her!'_" I imitate his voice perfectly and Isabel laughs in delight while Sebastian glowers at me.

"Fucking bitch."

"Stupid bastard."

"Izzy, aren't you going to welcome us as well?" A familiar sounding voice causes us to turn around and once again we are met with the sight of the odd couple. What were their names? I only took a few seconds to remember. Mathieu and Belinda. They made an impression back in the plane.

"But of course, dear Mathieu." She laughs again, and her expression is so serene I briefly wondered if she was the same Spanish royal who had made quite a few headlines in her youth. The rebel. Didn't she have a tattoo on her lower back?

"If you'll both excuse me, my warring cousins…" She calls a passing servant who had been carrying our things. "Fernando will show you your room. I have to meet with a few of my old friends."

She saunters back and I watch them for a careful moment or two, utterly intrigued and nearly entranced by the way they interacted. Isabel throws her arms around him while Belinda watches disinterestedly. He kisses her mouth with a chaste peck and Isabel fondly brushes back his hair before exchanging a cheek-to-cheek kiss with the model.

"Isn't it nice? At least if you can't have the fucked up Spanish half duke, then you can have the billionaire Frenchman. Either way, your insatiable thirst for foreign and wealthy men is met."

He sounds so bitter I momentarily wonder if this is still about that stupid fight back in the plane. I decide not to reply. Fighting with Sebastian is oftentimes so draining.

I find Conner inside my room later on.

"Hello." He says softly, his eyes on me.

We wait until the servant leaves before Conner shuts the door. I feel a sense of warmth and familiarity from him. My very own comfort zone. Despite the predicament and complication, he still feels like the same old Conner.

"What happened to you?"

I let out an airy laugh, dismissing his inquisition. "The stupid plane had to make an emergency landing in Colombia and the flight from there got delayed… So we had to stay the night."

"I know about the delay, Kathryn. I was talking about the phone call."

"Oh… It's nothing. This slut at the airport picked up Sebastian and then they went to some bar. I decided that he was being stupid by trusting some stranger in a foreign country so I went there to pick him up and yell at him for acting like an irresponsible child, only I got annoyed and ordered a few drinks. We were both drunk and he brought the slut home, they ended up fucking while I ended up paying for another room because they were being too loud."

I'm thankful for my ability to lie well.

He doesn't look convinced.

"Kathryn, are you sure? Why did you ask if I slept with Alana then?"

"I was drunk, Conner. It didn't mean anything."

He stares at me. I wasn't sure what the fuck I was talking about anymore.

"Are you sure?"

I hesitate.

"Yes." I pause, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. He laughs warmly. My God. They were both so trusting, these Valmont men. Sometimes I felt so guilty lying to them.

"You can unpack, I'll run a bath for you if you want."

He's so caring it made me ache with remorse. If I didn't have a conscience, it sure as hell felt like I was growing one right now.

I pout, "I don't get a proper welcome?"

He smiles and his dark eyes twinkle. My idea of perfection? Sebastian Conner Valmont. Dark curly hair and blue eyes.

Conner kisses my mouth and he sighs slightly (as though in regret) when he pulls away.

"Go unpack before I ravish you fully."

I grin. With him it was easy.

"I'm glad you're here." He adds further. I don't reply. I didn't know what to reply to that.

When he begins to touch me again, he squeezes my pelvic region too tight and I involuntarily wince and break the kiss.

"What is it?" He asks, alarmed.

I hadn't even realized it myself. When I hesitatingly pull down my waistband, there are two bruises on both sides of my pelvis.

What the fuck?

Shit. Had Sebastian really gripped me too hard? Was he trying to crush me??

_"Omigod, Sebastian!"_

_He gripped me firmly and my body curved forward, stomach out, head rolled back, eyes closed. I rested my palms on his taut stomach, slightly shaking._

_Slipping deeper and faster into the unknown. I rode him without any other thought except that I wanted to keep on slipping and falling. I did not care that I was caught off guard and that my eyes were closed. His hands held me and kept me safe._

"What the hell, Kathryn?"

I look up at him, hoping that he won't notice the guilt.

"I… banged myself against the bathroom counter while we were back at the hotel."

"Both sides?"

"…Yes."

"Don't insult my intelligence. Did you sleep with someone else?"

"What!"

"Did you?"

It was pointless to lie to people who knew me well.

"…Yes."

"Who?"

"This guy from the bar, okay?? And I didn't mean for it to happen! God! Aren't you being hypocritical here? I mean, you're hardly the model for fidelity! You're getting married for crying out loud!"

The best defense was a very, very good offense.

I push him away and head for the bathroom, shutting the door before he can come after me. I turn on the shower and predictably, he knocks before enters. He looks so troubled I felt so fucking bad for manipulating him like that.

"Hey…" He whispers, placing his hands on my shoulders to calm me down. It didn't work. It only made me want to curse Sebastian to the very depths of hell.

"What?" I snap, "Have you come to make me feel bad about it? I already do, okay? I didn't want to tell you but then you just had to ask! I mean, it's not like we're exclusive or anything. In fact, we're having a fucking affair, Conner!"

"I don't care about him, okay? I'm not mad… Please don't be angry with me."

I stop short. "You're not?"

"No. Jealous, yes... But not mad."

"Why not?"

"Because you should be able to do that… To have that kind of freedom. I'm putting you in this awful position right now and I know you're not used to it... I know you're adjusting to things, so I understand."

"Are you serious?"

I stare incredulously at him.

"Are you really so perfect? You'd allow me to fuck other guys?"

He laughs and I bite my lower lip and turn around to kiss him.

"Of course not. After this thing's all over, I don't want you with anybody else."

"Oh?" I play with his hair, "Aren't you demanding?"

He just laughs and I laugh with him because I know that I have him back and now things are going to be okay.

---

BAM.

An explosion makes me jump as I walk down the stairs later that day, immediately recognizing the sound of a gunshot. It was immediately followed by the sound of something shattering. I relax. I see Sebastian from afar holding a rifle, keeping his gaze trained on the target as another one is released.

Pull the trigger.

Bam. Shatter. He's always been good at that. Keeping his eye on the target. Hitting it. Completely screwing it up and causing it to break.

Like me. Hitting me in places he shouldn't even be allowed to touch. Hitting me _that_ way, where the only result is not pain, but utmost and very regrettable pleasure. Completely screwing me up. Not the breaking part of course... But the other things. He's good at the other things.

He is surrounded by a few of his relatives and a very annoying dark haired twit who wasn't obviously related to him because every time he gets a target, she claps her hands and presses her chest against his shoulder while she fawns over him. Ugh. I look around for Conner but he's nowhere to be found.

"Well, hello there."

I turn around and face a grinning blond man with a smile too big for his face. He was attractive, I suppose. Big blue eyes, prominent cheekbones… I would guess that this was a Valmont but at this point I couldn't tell.

"Hello." I reply politely but he's too busy ogling me to realize that I wasn't going to entertain him.

"You look lost."

"I'm not."

He's very persistent and so sure of himself. "I can show you around, if you want."

"Well, I'd prefer to do it on my own, thank you."

He smiles again, obviously thinking of something sexual. Maybe this was one of Sebastian's relatives after all.

"Would you really?" He murmurs and I had to laugh at his almost comical way of thinking. I decide to play along and screw with him. What the hell, I was bored anyway.

I come closer and he leers at me. Using my thumb to caress his jaw, I bite my lip temptingly and lean in closer to him.

"It actually depends…"

"On what?"

"On…" I breathe, going so close I can almost kiss him. His mouth opens slightly. I can tell that even if he wasn't prepared for this, he was a man who was not unfortunate when it came to women.

"Whether or not… I…"

He was almost salivating now and I stifle a triumphant smile.

"Kathryn?"

Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

I immediately move away from him and come face to face with Conner and Sebastian, of all people. They were both glaring at me. It reminded me of the time when I got caught cheating on my then boyfriend with one of the football players at some party. I forgot which boyfriend and which football player but for some weird reason, I was in the middle of laughing out loud and looking very remorseful and guilty.

The blond I had planned to fuck with lays a hand on my shoulder, intent on continuing what he thought was foreplay and flirtation. He was oblivious to the fact that my boyfriend and my stepbrother, also known as the guy I fucked when I was in Colombia, were both standing right in front of us.

Shit. The things I get myself into. Sebastian once told me that I loved complicated things. I think he's right.

Why are they both glaring at me so hatefully? It's not like they caught me humping the guy. I wasn't planning to, believe me. Two Valmonts are enough. I think if I added this one to the list, I would go insane.

"Why are you guys…"

I don't finish my sentence.

Conner comes up, pulls me away from the guy, and grabs him by the neck. Let me tell you right now that Conner is not an easily violent man who turns into a punching Neanderthal at the slightest provocation so it surprised me when he seemed to have no intention of letting him go.

Sebastian looks at Conner, then at me. He frowns. I wish he wouldn't know. Some sort of realization dawns on him. He moves cautiously, anticipating something. A fight? I didn't know. Why would Conner want to fight that guy?

The guy manages to shove him away and he coughs, wheezing slightly.

"Man, you need to take it easy."

"Take it easy." Conner repeats, clenching his fists. "Take it easy? Are you that desperate that you'll hit on every single female in this house??"

The guy winks at me, "Just the hot ones, Alfonso… You should know that by now."

Conner punches him. Sebastian intervenes upon realizing that this could turn into a very ugly fistfight. He places his arms around Conner and holds him back.

Is it so wrong that I would very much like it if they were molded into one person?

"Not worth it, Conner."

The guy spits up blood and walks away. Conner looks at me and he looks somewhat disappointed. Okay. Remorse, it is. I don't like how his dark eyes looked sad now that whatever anger he had is gone and when he struggled with Sebastian for my stepbrother to let him go, he rubs his knuckles to alleviate the pain.

"I think I pretty much know what's worth it." He snaps, walking away without looking at me.

Sebastian and I watch him go.

"Did I just miss something? What the hell was that?"

He turns those goddamned blue eyes at me like I had done something wrong. "Is it impossible for you to not seduce every guy you see? Are you really that much of a slut?"

"How dare you??"

"That guy… Philip. Philip Carter. The one Alana slept with while Conner was gone."

"Oh, I thought you were related to him. You kind of look alike. Now about the bitch stick with breasts, I'm sorry but that doesn't even merit that much of a reaction from Conner."

He looks insulted, "Fuck no I'm not related to him. Conner wanted to kill him because he was with Isabel when he slept with Alana."

"So what? Isabel's not really the type of woman who would give a fuck."

He just sighs. He looks at me like I'm five fucking years old and I hate him for it.

"Kathryn, remember last year when that lame ass football player you cheated on Troy Tennyson with publicly humiliated you by announcing to the entire team that you were a horny slut and that you'd blow anyone who was wealthy enough?

"Fuck, this is another one of your analogies designed to annoy me."

"Just listen… Well, I kicked his ass after that."

"You did?" I had always assumed the jock got into another 'my cock's bigger than yours' fights. Football players have very sensitive egos. I should know. The very next week very disturbing photos of him and his small dick suddenly spread around school. Of course I didn't have anything to do with it…

"Yeah." He offers a reluctant smile, shrugging. He looks so cute when he does that.

Wait. What?

He's not cute. He is an annoying boy.

"I mean, granted that what he said about you was true…"

"Please get to your point before I lose my patience and slap you."

"Nobody can do that to you. You're my sister and… Okay… Not exactly sister, but you're my… Well, you're you. I can't let anyone humiliate you like that... I think he'd been engaged to Isabel then but he suddenly broke it off without telling her why. You know that day when Alana and I were in your room and she said something in Spanish that upset him? I think that was it. Isabel loved the bastard, well, at least I think she did. Conner could handle the thing with Alana, it was partly his fault for not being around but when it came to his sister... Conner's very protective of her, just like how I am of you… Even when you fuck people up more than I do and even when there are times when you prove that you can be more violent than I am... I still can't let anybody harm you. It's just a thing I have. Conner and Isabel are like us… Well, not exactly like us. Obviously, they're really related and they don't want to have sex—"

"Excuse me?"

"What? It's true. I want to have sex with you, and somewhere at the back of your manipulative little brown haired head, I know a part of you still wants me. Just like before."

I had to laugh. The tension between us disappears just like that and I shove him.

"Sebastian, I swear that your ego is the size of a continent."

"Yours is the size of a planet."

He smiles at me and then I suddenly remember Conner. Okay. Damage control for the other one. God, it's tiring to be me.

"I better go."

He takes my arm. "Are you and Conner…?"

"What? Of course not. He's getting married… I just… I wanted to say goodbye. It only seemed right. I'm over it, Sebastian. Besides, how weak would I have looked if I refused to attend the wedding?"

I try to leave and he holds on.

"Promise?" He asks like a little boy. When did he become so gullible?

A little boy.  
_  
Being inside you is the best feeling in the world._

"Promise."

He smiles and lets go of me.

* * *

A/N: Yes, an update. Sorry about this one I kind of just scrounged it up. It may not be as intense as the previous chapter, but then again, that was the one wherein they finally did it so it's difficult to top that. At least, for now. Hahaha. 

Erika: Damn. Was I predictable? Oh well. If I was going to be predictable, I might as well be predictable with a sonofabitchthatwasINTENSE kind of bang… Which I suppose I fulfilled, yes? At least, I hope I did. Haha, yes here she comes. Mathieu as well, but I'm afraid her stay in this story is limited and she won't be as involved as she is in AIE/BGA. ;D While I do hope to be published, I also don't want to be sued for copyright issues… So I'm staying here with KS. Lol

B: Okay, but if you kill me I won't be able to rectify the whole Conner Kathryn thing. Sorry about that, they do get back together. Nothing personal, I just do the opposite of what people say. It's a thing I have. An annoying thing, but a thing nevertheless. Besides, there's a saying that the harder the struggle, the more glorious the triumph.. So.. keep the faith.

Princess Mel: Thank you very much, when I write a story I don't have an outline so it's safe to assume that anything can happen in this one.

Celeste: Actually, I can safely attest from due experience that there are drinks I'd like to call backstabbers. You drink them and then wonder what the hell kind of lame shit it was because you don't really feel drunk, but when you stand up… Oh boy. It hits you like a friggin train and before you know it, you're dancing like a flirtatious biatch and making out with hot people. Hypothetically speaking, of course. Hahaha. Of course, there are other factors as to why a person can get drunk easily. If you had not eaten before downing that drink, chances are your system will absorb the alcohol more easily. Another is that if you don't pace yourself by proper hydration (e.g. drink water in between drinks). It also won't help if you just keep drinking one drink after the other straight up, which some people tend to do when they're either stressed, depressed, or frustrated. Oh, and if you actually drink more than one kind (e.g. tequila, then vodka, then rum, then scotch), you'll more likely to get drunk faster. Now, given the circumstances and the fact that they didn't seem to have eaten, are tired and cranky and pissed off, I think it's a safe and credible way to put things. Wow, that was a long justification. As for the timing, there could have been a lot of reasons why the timing was like that. For one thing, it wasn't mentioned how long she booked the hotel (perhaps the person who attended to her needs was inefficient) and another is that perhaps he found the bar a little faster than she did. Oh, sorry. They were still at the airport, you know how some airports have places wherein you can just get a drink? Perhaps you misunderstood. It's just that I try to really think of it before I write it down, so I have a reason for everything I write in this story. Even the little things people may or may not really notice. It'll come to play later. ☺

Urangel: No worries, the psychotic (and yet beautifully twisted) pair will not be as sinister as they are in their stories.

Shit okay I'm really so tired so for everybody else who reviewed-- Thank you so much and I do hope you keep reading. :D


	17. Septimus Decimus

_And whenever I run_

_ My beautiful sin_

_ Is calling outside_

-The Veils

It proved to be far more difficult than I imagined, hiding from Sebastian like this. Our rooms were farther than the usual living arrangements back in New York, so Conner was able to either sneak inside my room or I would be able to slip out from mine in the middle of the night.

I got in about three days of being like that with him, not thinking about when the bitch stick with breasts was going to arrive (which was today). We went on trips to the city and the beach along with Isabel, Mathieu and Belinda. By then Sebastian and the dark haired giggling slut, whose name I later found out to be Tricia had turned into some kind of couple. Gag. I didn't like her for him. Her forehead was too big and her eyes were too small for her face. She had the most annoying laugh you could ever hear. Each time Sebastian brings her along, I want to stuff her throat with grass because her two large front teeth made her look like a fucking rabbit.

My relationship with Sebastian was amicable, although there were the usual petty fights, it never lasted for far too long. We didn't get on each other's nerves too much now that he was preoccupied with the little bitch and he presumed me to be preoccupied with Mathieu, with whom I developed some form of companionship with along with Belinda. It all went fine for those three days, I was happy with Conner despite the occasional flashback of that night. I suppose that every time we were in bed, everything seemed to warp and twist into a neat and different version of how I want my life to be. I never called him by a different name, I never saw his eyes turn blue or his voice change when he called me Kate. I was considerably very much contented and had even toyed with the thought that perhaps my one night stand with Sebastian had been nothing more than a stupid and drunken mistake.

I had plans. Plans for Conner and me. He would break it off with Alana and I would attend Yale. He'd try to be where I am most of the time, but he would still continue his work. No more fucking around. He didn't care that we were somewhat related and the relation was already too far and vague for people to turn it into a controversy like they would have done had Sebastian and I hooked up.

…Which is why that stupid night in Colombia will never, ever be mentioned again.

"Are you actually going to play with them?" I notice Sebastian pass, wearing what suspiciously looked like to be athletic gear. When did I last see him in something like that?

He only flashes me a grin, taking the lacrosse stick and placing it on his shoulder.

"Sebastian, you're going to get killed."

"Please." He scoffs, "Your demonic plan and that stupid cab couldn't do the job, do you honestly think that playing lacrosse with my cousins and a few of Conner's friends would kill me?"

"Well, when one of them happens to be Philip, the same guy you pushed into the pool the other day for talking trash about Isabel, then yes I'd say it's a probability."

His brows furrow. He scowls. "The bastard deserved it."

I pinch his cheek teasingly, "You're so cute when you're all protective about your relatives…"

He swats my hand away, "Shut up. So, how come _you're_ not sealing the deal with the French guy?"

"Contrary to what you believe in, brother, I don't feel the need the screw every hot guy I meet."

His mouth drops open, "Are you serious? That's not the manipulative little slut of a stepsister I know…"

I shove him and slap his arm lightly, just enough to show intent but not enough to hurt him. He laughs and places an arm around me, pulling me to him. He steals a kiss on my cheek (the only safe place he can kiss me because we're out on the gardens and there are a lot of people waiting for us.)

Nevertheless, I wrench away from him.

"Don't!"

"What? It's a brotherly peck."

"Get away from me, you're being touchy feely again." I wriggle from his grasp and he laughs and lets me go, but not before squeezing my breast.

I color a light red, slapping his hand.

"Sebastian!"

"It was an accident."

"You fucking perv." I grumble under my breath while he winks at me and jogs off into the playing field. I look around. I immediately see Mathieu seated alone, fiddling with his cell phone. Conner was talking to his teammates and he had this little frown on his face like he was really concentrated on something. I smile to myself. He had the same look when we were having sex.

"How long?"

I take a seat next to Mathieu, enjoying the sun on my face. The warmth soothes my frazzled nerves. Anytime now Alana Vaughn will come walking through the double doors and I will wish I was into cocaine again because then it will be more difficult to hide and the very scary reality that Conner can still possibly marry that hideous witch will rear its ugly head some more and continue to further pester me.

I glance at his handsome face blankly, "How long what?"

He just smiles. There is something about Mathieu that intrigues me. He has this look like he knows what I'm thinking and he just smiles at me furtively.

"Mathieu?" I press, both annoyed and curious at what he knows and if he did, how obvious I was being with my supposed clandestine affair.

He only shrugs and leans back, watching as his blonde companion chatted with Isabel. There is a different kind of warmth in his brown eyes when he watches Belinda and as attractive as he was, I did not think of him in that aspect. I respected Belinda and their peculiar relationship drew me in deeply, I resolved not to complicate things further by getting involved.

"Forget it, I'm not one to meddle with personal affairs."

"Why aren't you playing?"

He taps his leg, "I can't. There's a steel implant in there somewhere and I'm afraid I'm not one for lacrosse."

"What happened?"

"Belinda shot me."

"She what??"

"It's okay. I shot her first."

If I thought my relationship with my stepbrother was already fucked up, I obviously was not aware of theirs. Mathieu smiles at my shocked expression before putting his cell phone back in his pocket.

"And you're…"

"Deeply and horrifyingly committed to each other, yes."

"…Why exactly is that?" Actually I was going to ask if they were both insane but I figured it wasn't the best way to go.

"She gets me." He says simply, putting on an innocent expression when Belinda teasingly narrows her eyes at him seated beside me. I envied their openness; their candid relationship was so out in the open while I had to keep my own a secret, along with the rest of my horrible little sins.

We hear a loud whoop from the field and our attention is diverted to the players. Sebastian was on a different team while Conner and Philip were on the other. Personally, I wasn't as disturbed by Philip's attendance at the wedding although my boyfriend and my stepbrother were both pissed off at him. I understood the mechanics of it, even in Spain, it was the same as things are how in New York. It doesn't matter if you dislike a certain person, as long as he was a part of your crowd, he had to be present at all the parties. I watch as Sebastian smiles triumphantly, having scored a goal. Tricia, also known as Sebastian's Flavor of the Week (did she really think he was going to commit to her?), yells and claps and giggles along with her stupid equally airheaded friends. Isabel and Belinda laugh at her discreetly. I share their joke even though I am a few feet away.

Sebastian casts a look at me and puffs up his chest like he is a child who had just done something right. Cocky, sweaty, and with bits of grass sticking on his face and his arms, he looks like he has been doing it for years when I knew for a fact that the last time he picked up a lacrosse stick was when he was twelve. I do recall how he'd been courted and wooed by the coach to join the high school team but it hadn't been his main interest. He wipes the sweat with his shirtsleeve and then eventually shrugs and slips out of his now soaked borrowed jersey from Conner.

Tricia swoons. I wanted to stab her. Of course, I couldn't. I only glower.

I'm not really a fan of sports so I'm not that interested in the game. I watch them with mild interest and engage in small talk with Mathieu, and as hot as Conner looked (of course I checked him out and imagine my disappointment when he was modest enough to keep his shirt on), I did not understand the male fascination with athletics. Let them have their fun.

Another yell. The field was brimming with testosterone I felt like I was growing a penis. I see Philip muttering darkly, Conner was talking to him in a low voice and Sebastian was on the other side of the field with his teammates.

"Sis!"

I look up. Sebastian points his lacrosse stick at me. How primitive. He gives me a big smile, his cheeks are flushed bright red from the activity.

"Last one's for you."

I roll my eyes and indulge in his newfound jock side, waving a hand in acknowledgment.

Tricia looks at me with jealousy. I enjoy his trivial dedication even more when she does that.

The game starts. Sebastian's really gotten in touch with his athletic side, he runs and sprints, catching the ball easily. Philip comes up and his burly frame slams into Sebastian's side, causing him to fall.

I hear Sebastian curse even from where I am, but he easily gets up. Philip passes to Conner, who scores the goal. More manly victorious yells. I see Sebastian limping, but there's no more easygoing expression on his face. Conner isn't as thrilled about the goal as he should be, I see him pull Philip's collar and it looked like he was pissed off about something.

"Sebastian, you alright?" He calls out to his cousin, who nods.

"No body checks." Conner snaps at Philip, who only laughs it off. Philip's family is one of Daniel Valmont's trusted friends; it was difficult to ostracize him.

"Hey, the kid was in my way."

"I mean it!" Conner barks but Philip looks behind him and notices me watching. He puckers his mouth and blows me a kiss. I wince. How could I have flirted with the sleazebag?

The game resumes now, Philip passes to another guy, only for the pass to get intercepted by Sebastian. Philip jogs after him and he swings his stick at him.

That's when I realize he wasn't going for another foul this time.

I stand up.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck he can't hit Sebastian there…

"DON'T!" I scream but by then it's too late because the end comes into direct contact with Sebastian's bad leg and there is a sickening sound of him hitting the ground awkwardly.

Sebastian is lying on the ground, clutching his leg. Groaning, cursing, there is a wound on his knee from where he was operated on and my mind goes blank I run to his side blindly, uncaring if I looked like some deranged lunatic. Conner looks stunned and he yells for someone to call an ambulance.

"Kate?" He looks so pained that when he whimpers, I seriously considered taking that fucking lax stick and breaking Philip's jaw with it.

"I'm here." I reply and I put my hand on top of his, wiping his sweaty face with my other hand.

"It hurts so badly." He grits his teeth and I lock eyes with Conner who coolly turns away. He walks up to Philip, taps his shoulder, and swings his fist against the bastard's gut. Philip crumples easily, and Conner keeps hitting until he is finally restrained by three of his friends. Philip moans pitifully but nobody else pays attention to him. I hate that man.

We both see Alana walking up to us.

"Go." I tell him as Sebastian ensues another groan. "Go to her. I'm staying with him."

He holds my gaze for a while and his right hand twitches like he wants to reach out and touch me. His knuckles are bruised.

"Go." I tell him again and he nods.

"Seb? They're coming okay? Just try not to move." He says calmly. "I beat the shit out of Philip."

Sebastian laughs, but even his laughter ends with another groan. His leg is leaking blood so profusely I am beginning to panic. How the fuck can he bleed so much?

"Thanks."

"Believe me, buddy. It's the least I can do."

"I'll see you later?" Conner asks me softly and I nod. I nod because I want him and I need him and I haven't forgotten it.

I watch him walk away for a few seconds before I feel Sebastian's fingers slip into mine. Isabel is on the other side with Philip, cursing him in Spanish. She even seemed to be kicking him. I had to smile at that. Who would have thought that they would be so close-knit as a family? We are now surrounded by his relatives, as concerned as I was. His girlfriend was trying to hold his other hand but he wouldn't let go of his leg. Tricia insisted on stroking his hair but he didn't seem to notice her.

Get a clue, you airhead. He doesn't want you.

"Ouch." He said weakly, "See why I'm not into sports?"

"If you weren't so consumed by the typical male ego, then you wouldn't be here right now."

"Hey, I didn't tell him to whack me with his stick!"

He stops talking. He squints and finds the laughter in my eyes.

"Do not start, Kathryn."

"I won't." I reply, "I'll start again when you're up and running. It doesn't seem fair to kick you while you're down."

He hisses from another onslaught of pain and we hear the paramedics running up to us.

"They're coming now." I assure him, "Hold on."

"Don't go." He tells me.

I didn't have a chance to reply because he has passed out. His fingers are now curled loosely against mine and I had to pull away.

I left him. I went to Mathieu and Belinda and accepted their invitation to go for a drive. I did not want my Valmont men to occupy my mind. I did not like this overwhelming worry that is spreading throughout my body, worry for Sebastian and worry for Conner. Worry for losing them both. It is tiring to think of them and even more tiring to forget certain details that incite such restless feelings.

Late at night, I come home to find Conner and Alana are gone. I instinctively go to Sebastian's room to find it empty.

I sleep alone that night.

My phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Why aren't you here?" Asks my stepbrother. I can feel him pouting.

"Because I'm tired, Sebastian."

He pauses. He sounds groggy, like he'd been sedated.

"They reset the bones and stitched me up. It kind of hurt a little when they were done but I didn't feel anything 'cause I was asleep. But I'll be okay. Just a little limp, like before. I don't have to use the cane though."

I yawn, turning to my side. "I'm glad to know."

"I'm on morphine right now and I had Isabel smuggle a cell phone in my room. Is it cold there, Kathryn? It's pretty cold here."

Ah. So that explained a lot of things.

"Yes, it's cold here."

"Are you with Frenchie? I think he's insane although Belinda's quite hot… He's lucky to have her, you know? They're good together. When they're together I remember how we were, only less psychotic."

I laugh quietly. It would be so good to remind him of his stupid blathering in the morning.

"I miss Selena." He continues, "I miss her and she misses me, Kathryn. I want to come see her because—"

Whoa.

"Who's Selena?" I ask suspiciously, no longer indulging in his morphine high.

"I miss her a lot, especially now. I'm alone and it's cold and my leg kind of hurts."

"Who the fuck is Selena, Sebastian?"

He's not listening to me. He's off in Lala land now, completely oblivious to the fact that he was starting to piss me off.

"I love her so much. I wish she never left. She left and she's never coming back. I wish I was there, I wish I could have stopped everything."

Motherfucker.

"Sebastian, who's Selena?"

"I'm sleepy, little sister." He whispers, he is so docile and peaceful like that.

"Who's Selena? Do love her more than you love Annette?"

"Of course. I've known her longer."

_What about me? _Mild curiosity mingles with jealousy into this strange concoction I am powerless not to imbibe._  
_

"Who is she?"

"It's my fault, you know? It's my fault she's gone."

I hear him yawn again and as though it is contagious, I yawn too. He chuckles when he hears it.

"We're too alike."

"Yes."

"I feel lonely, Kathryn."

"Call Tricia and have her blow you."

"I'd rather talk to you."

"Not Selena?" I was hungry for more details of this woman he seemed to have hidden from me for so long.

"She's asleep right now… I used to sleep beside her you know. She has horrible nightmares and she'd wake up crying, clinging on to me like I could save her… I never could…"

He sounds so sad I wanted to go visit him just to see what he looks like at the moment. I had never really heard him like that before.

"I could save you too, right? I'm always saving you… Always worrying and thinking about you."

"Sebastian, go to sleep."

I'm talking with my eyes closed now.

"Okay." He agrees amicably.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Okay." He says again. "I wish you were here with me tonight."

"So do I."

I reply and hang up, realizing that it is the first time in the three days we've been here that I actually told him the truth.

* * *

A/N: …Okay, okay I'll ask for you guys: Who the hell is Selena? I love the lyrics I found for this chapter. It's the best part in starting a new one. I get to choose all over again. Since I'm hella tired yet again (reading this wears me out), I'll just address what I can in this single paragraph. No, don't worry. I'm not ditching this fic. I do plan to finish this. The initial target length for this was fourteen chapters but as usual, I'm being hardheaded. Even to myself. Hahaha. No fixed amount of chapters and Mathieu and Belinda will not be a permanent fixture here (although it was great writing them here). I'm kicking them back to BGA soon. Thank you all for liking this because I don't. Okay, just kidding. I do, but sometimes I have trouble writing Kathryn. It's hard finding that balance, you know? 

Anyway, until the next one I guess. If y'all care, the next one's divided into two parts. It was too long and I didn't want to bore you by stuffing it into just one chapter. Plus I'm not finished with the second half yet. I'd leave an excerpt for the first half (also under strenuous construction) but I don't want to spoil it for anybody.

Oh! Has anybody read The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger? I just finished it the other day and it's so brilliant. (Am in serious envy of the author) Well, if you haven't read that, read it. :D

It makes _me_ want to write a book. Haha. Riiiight.


	18. Duodevicesimus, Part Unus

_Strip away  
Vanity  
I do  
Just as you  
Consume me  
I do  
Broken smile  
Starless sky  
I do  
Save it all  
Say goodbye  
_  
-From Autumn To Ashes

I was taking a stroll in the gardens when I saw her.

The girl from the photograph was there, all limbs and arms and large green eyes. She was still dancing, just like in the picture.

Only there was something different this time.

As music filtered through the white speakers where a black iPod was cradled on, I hear her laughing.

"Come here!" She calls out and at first I thought she was referring to me but then I see Sebastian slip past the hedges and she stops dancing for a moment. She runs to him and jumps in his arms, kissing his mouth tenderly. He responds with greater passion, running his hands through her black hair like he couldn't get enough of her.

"I missed you." He growls and moves to slip off the straps of her dress but she stops him.

"Not now. Come on," Her tiptoed feet land on the ground and she pulls his hands coyly. "Dance with me."

He tries to complement her movements and they end up laughing and smiling together while I stand there trapped and separated by what seemed to be an invisible wall behind them.

I wake up.

I didn't remember anything except the girl and how she spoke.

Sometimes it's easier to forget things.  
---

"Kathryn, I think I'm capable of fixing my tie, thank you very much."

I twist the knot so the straightness it had earlier disappears and he tuts his disapproval, glancing at me in mild irritation. I don't really understand why he's so uptight about this, people were already expecting us downstairs and Sebastian seemed to be taking his time getting ready. Sometimes he's vainer than I am, but I can't really blame him for being too slow this time. He had just been discharged from the hospital and was again walking around with a mild limp and I had taken it upon myself to make sure he didn't fall flat on his ass.

"Stop!" He whines and I flash him a cheeky grin, pouting when he starts to look angry. I grab the bottle of painkillers and shake it slightly, "Have you taken these?"

"Oh my God. My bitchy stepsister died and came back as Florence Nightingale."

I stop short and pop a few pills into my mouth, much to his surprise. His eyes widen. He tries to snatch the bottle away from me but I hold it behind my back.

"Spit it out! You're not supposed to take that!"

I wait for the pleasant effects of his very strong painkillers, closing my eyes. Another wave of calm washes over me and briefly I feel the sensation of being carried away by the ocean. Only it wasn't really the ocean. I felt arms and hands.

What the hell was I thinking?

"Sebastian! Put me down!"

He drops me on his bed and I fall with a surprised cry, he winces as he leans in and checks my eyes.

"Are you insane?" I bark, hitting his leg. "We're already late!"

"Are _you_ insane?" He retorts, digging his two fingers against my neck to check if my pulse had suddenly speeded up. "Have you forgotten how you collapsed and threw up blood all over the floor the last time you took something you weren't supposed to take?"

"Have _you_ forgotten how your leg's still fucked up?"

I hit his leg again, this time a little harder. He loses his balance and topples on top of me. I shriek when his face crashes against my ribcage and I can hear his muffled groans against me.

"Don't drool on me, Sebastian!" I complain, tugging his hair.

His eyes are teary and he glares at me, immediately making me feel bad for hitting him there. He uses his palms to lift himself off me and I sit up to help him, only he pulls me sharply.

"Omph!" He gasps when I land on top of him. His back cushions my fall and he hits his head again, uttering another loud curse. "Get off me!"

"You pulled me, you idiot!"

"Oh, I'm an idiot?" He challenges, rubbing the back of his head.

"Did you not just hear me call you an idiot or have you turned into a retard in the past few seconds we've been arguing?"

My head spins a little and I feel woozy. Usually when I snuck in a few of Sebastian's pills to put me in a mellow mood, I didn't do anything strenuous or physically active.

"Oh." I say faintly, grabbing my head. "You moron, you shouldn't have done that. I feel sick."

He frowns, placing his hands on my hips in an effort to push me off him. He squeezes too hard. I cry out in pain.

"What's wrong?" My stepbrother morphs into the persistent protector once again but I quickly stand up and take a more stable seat on the bed, trying to will away the ill feeling.

"Nothing."

"Don't bullshit me." He takes a seat next to me and gently brushes my hair back.

I stare at him in surprise.

"What's wrong, Kathryn?"

"Nothing's wrong."

He presses his thumb against the lightening bruise on my pelvic bone and I jump slightly. Even though it has been a week since we arrived from Colombia, my body seems to not want to heal as quickly as possible. When I have bruises, it usually takes more than the ordinary time period to heal. The doctors say it's something about me not eating properly or some stupid shit like that.

"Are you hurt?" He questions me, his gaze boring into mine. "Did somebody hurt you there?"

"Nobody hurt me, okay?" I reply quickly, trying to take his hand off me.

"Let me see."

I cast him a disparaging look, "Are you serious? I'm not taking this dress off."

He presses his fingers against the other bruise and I jump again.

"Stop doing that!"

"Both sides? You couldn't have hit it accidentally. Let me see."

He starts trying to unzip my dress.

"No! Get off me!"

"Kathryn, how did you get hurt like that?"

I keep quiet. Well, what was I supposed to say? Oh, you want to know how I got hurt like this, Sebastian? Well, let's see… It must have happened when you were fucking me.

"It's nothing, okay? Will you get off me? You still have a bad leg."

He grimaces again and I take his face in my hands. His face is still all cloudy and troubled and he's looking at me like he's trying to figure me out.

"It's nothing. Believe me. I'm not being abused or anything of the sort."

"How'd you get hurt then? Why won't you let me see it?" He complains and I chuckle at how childish he's being.

"You just want to see me in my underwear."

"Kathryn, I've already seen you naked. I've even walked in on you having sex, and not mentioning the fact that I've gone down on you a couple of times (I blush when he says this so matter-of-factly), do you honestly think seeing you in your underwear would be my intention right now? Just let me see, okay? I didn't know you were hurt and I wanted to see it. Is it bad?"

"No. I'm alright."

He presses the bruises again.

"Stop!"

_His mouth on my stomach, his hands on my waist. Kissing. Nibbling. Biting._

_Why haven't we done this before?_

_Oh, fuck… Why?_

"Fine! You want to see it?"

Anything to get him off me. I was suddenly having flashbacks of him on top of me, me on top of him, and basically us in various positions doing something that shouldn't be done by stepsiblings.

It works. He does get off me. He looks victorious and still worried. I can't for the life of me understand why he's worried over two stupid bruises when his leg's been operated on again.

"Lock the door."

"It's locked."

"You're just too lazy to get up and go lock it. I'm serious, Sebastian. Lock it. I don't want people walking in on me half naked with you on the same bed."

"It's locked!"

I glance at the ticking clock and grudgingly lift the hem of my dress, exposing the black lace panties I wore.

"You're such a pervert. I can see right through your excuse."

He leans in and touches the bruises, which had already turned into a yellowish and dark purple color.

"It looks bad."

"It isn't."

He places his thumbs over the exact same place it had been when I was on top of him, holding me the same way he did that night.

"You were having sex." He says slowly, "That's how the bruises appeared."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were. See how I'm holding you right now? The guy was too rough on you… He shouldn't have been."

The 'guy' shouldn't have done a lot of things.

I try kicking him but he has my legs firmly locked by his arms. "Can you let go now? I'd like to go to the party."

"Who'd you fuck?"

"Mathieu."

Oops. I said the first male name that popped into my head without causing anger and rage from him. I make a mental note to fill Mathieu in as soon as I see him as well as apologize to Belinda and explain my stupid situation.

He doesn't say anything for a while. He just keeps touching my bruises like he's thinking of something. It's starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Let go."

"He was too rough." He repeats, frowning. "I know you like it rough but it was too much."

"It was fine. We were drunk and horny, it didn't mean anything."

"It didn't?"

He glances at me.

"No, it didn't. Now let me go so we can head downstairs."

Sebastian's still looking at me. Does he know? Does he remember?

"Alright." He finally speaks after a moment's pause. "We can go now."

He bends down and plants a kiss on top of each bruise. I feel his cold mouth press against my warm skin and I feel my arms hang limply to the sides.

"Feel better." He smiles at me.

I smile at his unexpected move and tug his blond curls playfully.

"God, you're cheesy."

The door opens.

I freeze.

Conner stands there, looking hurt.

_Goddamn it._

"Sebastian, people are looking for you and Kathryn. You guys better come down, Mama's looking forward to seeing you again."

Shit.

He shuts the door before we can move.

Sebastian pulls back and we don't say anything for a while.

I push my dress down and quickly stand up, trying to act normal. Trying to fix my hair and trying to stop mentally yelling at myself for not making sure the stupid door was locked.

"That was awkward." He smirks and I don't smirk back.

"I'll see you downstairs." I reply instead, but as I try to leave he calls me.

"It's still true, you know."

"What is, Sebastian?" I ask, distracted.

I was too busy formulating some sort of excuse to Conner when Sebastian says something that completely blows everything out of proportion.

"That being inside you is the best feeling in the world. I don't care if it didn't mean anything. It's still true."

I must have looked ridiculous at that point, my mouth was open and my eyes were the size of golf balls, gawking at him like he had just shown me he had three hands. Sebastian only smiles beatifically and limps toward me, kissing my forehead.

"I've waited a long time for that, do you honestly think I'd forget it?"

Words have permanently left me.

"Wha… Huh?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to be all clingy and pathetic. I know how you are. I'm staying away from you if it's what you want. I just want you to know that I'm tired of bullshitting around this thing. I don't want to stay away from you. I don't want you to fuck Frenchie or anybody else for that matter. I'm glad that you're not seeing Conner anymore because that seriously pissed me off."

I open my mouth but he cuts me off.

"No. Shut up. You just listen."

I nod mutely.

"That night in Colombia… I never forgot about it. I just thought that maybe… Well, I remember what happened the last time I tried to go after you when you went into my room all fucked up and we almost had sex. Remember that? You fucked my cousin after just to get me off your back."

"I did not—"

"I said be quiet."

He goes out and I follow, utterly intrigued and bewildered and anxious all at the same time. We eventually come upon the party itself, but Sebastian leads me to a corner. Clearly he was intending to continue with his insane speech. I see Conner on the far side of the room. My heart pounds faster.

"I heard you leave that night. I heard you cursing in the bathroom, I saw how red your skin as from all the scrubbing and it made me feel like shit."

"Sebastian, that's not what I—"

"Shut the fuck up and let me get this out."

I was darting glances back and forth between the two men I've succeeded in screwing up with.

"I realized that you regretted it and since we both know good how you are at talking about stuff like this, I thought about just pretending to forget it. I guess I wanted to see if you'd let me forget." He laughs to himself, "Of course you did. But there are times when I thought that maybe you just... That maybe you were there again, like when I got hurt and you were there, or like the time you still went after me even though we had that fight."

"Can we not talk about this here?"

"It's fine. I'll be done in a few minutes anyway."

"The problem is I don't know what's going on with us. Sometimes I want… things. I want stuff with you, and sometimes I just get so tired of it all. I just wanted you to know that I'm as confused as you are, so you don't have to worry about me pushing you. Like I said, I'm not going to be like I was last time… Before Conner and before Annette, when you read that half a page. Too much has happened and I'm not the same guy I was before, so before you go running off, I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to run away from me. If that night didn't mean anything to you, then I'm not going to force it to mean something. It doesn't mean that we have to have a relationship, I know that's what you're scared of. I just wanted to tell you that it did to me. That's it."

He walks away and I just stand there motionless for what seemed to be eternity until I finally realized what I had to do.

---  
"Will you please stop walking?"

He finally stops at the pleading tone in my voice. I manage to catch up to him and pull him into a more secluded area of the house.

We look at each other.

"I have something I need to tell you." I break the silence and he nods. We talked and talked until there was nothing else to say.

Words have finally passed us both now.

Something else takes over.

I feel the warmth of his body seeping through his formal suit as though he wanted me to feel warm and comforted. There was something about the way our bodies seemed to be fused to each other, we were always touching, his hand on my waist, my head on his shoulder, his words in my ear, and a series of other various connections like we knew we were reaching the end of a very long road trip and sooner or later we'd have to get out of the car.

I feel nothing but affection and perhaps even _love_ for this man.

We ignore the now muffled sounds of the party that was going on downstairs. What was there to celebrate for us? I did not know.

He pulls me into his bedroom, taking care not to pull too hard and making sure that I felt the same urgency he was feeling. He didn't have to make sure. I felt it stir within me like it had never been stirred before. As I stand there nestled between the door and his arms, I hear the click of the lock as our privacy is secured before I bring my hands from his neck to his hair, playing with the curls and loving each strand of it.

He opens his mouth to talk but I shake my head and immediately he stops. He knows me too well. What else was there to say?

"Just kiss me." I whisper with a driving force, because by now I felt the need throbbing in my very core. Need for him to be joined with me, even if it was just for tonight. Need to take something from this thing, this insanity that had somehow happened.

_Being inside you is the best feeling in the world._

I shiver at the words and then it immediately dissolves when his full mouth touches mine and just like that, I am in the now. The present. With him. Nobody else. Nothing else.

He carries me to bed. My mind is at warp speed filled with thoughts.

He stops in what he's doing the moment he realizes I am thinking of something else. He pulls himself over me, eyes intensely darkened with lust.

"Stop thinking." He says quietly and I do. Outside the confines of this room, there is no world that existed.

As he peels off my clothing, I can only watch him. I commit this to memory, each limb, each curve of his musculature, God help me. Even the way his fingers moved when he took my panties off.

His tongue in my cunt, his hands spreading my legs while I writhed and moaned underneath him. I cannot keep still. He finishes me off fairly quickly and I yell out his name when I finally reached my peak, repeating it in quieter pants as I basked in the afterglow of my orgasm.

I don't have time to relax because then he slips inside of me and I had to keep myself from clawing his back. He's different than the other Valmont. Thicker, if you'd like me to be crude… But there's something else. Something else about the way he took me that I've always loved. My body welcomed him just like the last time, and he doesn't try any crazy position like we'd done in the past, when we were both feeling adventurous and insane. The standard one. Him on top, pumping into me. It never hurt when it was with him, it was like my body wanted him so much it never stopped producing the proper lubrication needed for this to last.

With one exception.

This time he held me close, trying to hug me and pull me to him like he wanted to crush me. I am groaning and shaking and all thoughts were only of him. Of that moment I'll always remember.

When he comes, I can feel him tremble even as he remains inside me.

"There's always going to be something." He tells me, his mouth lingering in my ear while he rests on top of me. "I'll always want you."

"I know." I turn and he lands on the left side of the bed (his side. Always his side, even before). He kisses me once. Twice. Thrice? Like he never wanted things to end. I must admit that at that point, neither did.

"What if someone comes looking for us?"

"I don't care." He says, pulling up the blankets over me when he sees me shiver.

I smile up at him and there is that undeniable sadness, a sort of finality that will never really entirely be finality because there is a part of me that will always wonder about him. When I rest my head very near his, I can feel his hard chest against my delicate frame. What a combination we truly were.

We watch the window in silence, our hands playing with each other's. Eventually the sounds of people are silenced and the dim blue sky greets us.

"It's time." He says.

I nod. I close my eyes. He pulls me closer to him in a tight hug.

I kiss his hand. The left ring finger, where the ring will be placed.

"Happy wedding, Conner."

* * *

Okay, so just to give you guys a sneak peek, here's an excerpt for the second part: 

_ I thought of Conner and that last night. I thought of his face, eternally perfect, eternally pale and structured. I thought of the goodbye that never was, he was my secret just as Selena was Sebastian's. Was it like that?_

_I did not know. I did not want to know. I did not like thinking of Sebastian and Selena together, whether or not she was the breathtaking creature in the photograph._

Anyway, thanks for reading. It will forever remain a mystery why you guys subscribe to my insane writings. I never really thought this would be that much of a hit but wonders never cease. I'm hoping to surpass AIE with this one. A girl can dream, yes?


	19. Duodevicesimus, Part Duo

_So maybe tomorrow  
I'll find my way home_

-Stereophonics

"Are you ready?"

I look up and take a very long moment to answer, so much that eventually Sebastian becomes impatient and closes the door.

How can I answer that?

I take a look at the now empty room, barren and ready for a different guest now that my luggage has been packed in the waiting car outside. I touch the soft sheets. I'll never be able to stay in this room without remembering how Conner felt.

Nevertheless, these things must happen. Change is inevitable.

Finally, I stand up. Conner and his wife are gone now, and while I'll always have moments wherein I ask myself why the hell I told him to marry her, I know that it's something that had to happen.

I'm not going to bore you with sentimental trash. I'm not going to say that I came out of this entire thing a better person, because I don't think that at all. Was I even a good person to begin with? I'm not going to say that it was because of Sebastian, because I don't make decisions that are based on another person, much less my stepbrother.

What then, you may ask, was the cause of this sudden decision?

It was really an accumulation of certain things along the way. Have you ever planned for something, down to every single detail, and have your desired outcome go farther and farther away from your grasp until it isn't really a possibility anymore? I had all the variables down. It's just the changes I never saw coming.

You don't understand. I wouldn't expect you to.

How about an anecdote?

Wait. Fuck it. I'm not giving you an anecdote or an analogy like one of Sebastian's stupid and insulting ones. What can I tell you about Conner that you don't already know?

I will always want him. Just like he'll always want me. I may not be cut out for a long-term relationship with him, but he will always be that unanswered question. I suppose it's also because while I've spent those three days with him, we both felt that something had changed. Oh, I still wanted to fuck him and he still wanted to fuck me. Believe me when I say that wasn't it. It wasn't Sebastian either, so don't go all Team Sebastian on me in case you're like Blaine who wants two things: a) For Sebastian to end up with me and (this wish is exclusively Blaine's) b) For my stepbrother to be a bisexual so he can have Sebastian when we have a fight, hypothetically speaking, when we become a couple.

Thus, the highly emotional and perfect way to end the affair. I still felt that twinge when I saw him with Alana, but then again, maybe there are some people we never stop feeling that way about. Yes, as superior as I may be to you, I am susceptible to that.

Ever since Sebastian told me he knew what happened that night in Colombia, I've been avoiding him like he was one of those disgusting and clingy posers back in Manchester Prep. You know the type, right? Bright, bubbly, with permanent smiles on their overly made up faces so they could suck up to me and climb up the social ladder? Ugh. During the wedding, he sat with Tricia and I sat with the psychotic couple from hell that apparently got a kick of shooting each other. I didn't mind. It's really not that I disliked Mathieu and Belinda. Quite the opposite, actually.

True to his word, I never got the side glances Sebastian usually gave me when he wanted something from me but he wouldn't say what. He didn't press me for answers like he would have done before, which I was glad for. I still had not formed a suitable response to counteract his revelation.

What was I supposed to say? What can a stepsister tell her stepbrother when he tells her that he does remember how he fucked her brains out one drunken and crazy night in the cocaine capital of the world?

…

Got anything?

Because I certainly don't. So I run. I avoid. It's easier to deal like that.

But other than that, Conner-wise, I think I _am_ ready.

I step out of the room and head downstairs to find Isabel with Mathieu and Belinda. Thankfully, Sebastian wasn't in sight.

Mathieu was on the phone again, as was Belinda. Both of them were conversing in two different languages, Mathieu in French and Belinda in Greek. I was only fluent in French so I couldn't understand what she was saying and only caught the name Nikolai. It did sound like she was arguing with him though, but I did not care. Mathieu, on the other hand, was talking to a few of his business associates. He had a wonderful accent, his voice smooth and gruff like the contradiction that was his personality. He also seemed to be making arrangements for a private jet.

They both got off at the same time and Mathieu smiles at me apologetically.

"Business." He explains, "Anyway, we wanted to say goodbye to you before we left."

"You." Belinda corrects him, her gray eyes coolly staring at me. "You wanted to say goodbye to her before we left. Thanks to your need to flirt one last time with the Catholic schoolgirl, Nikolai's pissed off that I'm going to arrive late to Italy _again_. We were supposed to meet there for his birthday."

I glare at her but she ruefully smiles then and she oozes so much charm it is difficult to stay angry with her.

"No offense, Kathryn."

"None taken."

"So, goodbye?" He holds up his hand for me to shake. His brown eyes twinkle and his mouth tugs upwards in a close-lipped smile.

"Yes, yes." His companion interjects pointedly. "You're attracted to her and she's attracted to you. Blahblahblah. Next, he's going to invite you to France for the summer. Try not to hook up with him though, darling. I love him but he's a fucking psycho."

"Don't mind her. In Belinda's language, that translates as goodbye as well."

I take his hand and he holds it firmly, shaking it twice.

"Don't let her scare you off, I'm a very nice man."

"You shot her."

"True, but she shot me back. My sin has been negated." He lets go and kisses Isabel's cheek.

"See you in the summer, Isabel?"

She nods and he smiles.

Belinda looks at me grudgingly after she exchanges a goodbye with Isabel.

"You know," She finally speaks, shifting her weight by moving her long legs. "I haven't met any interesting people here but you're one of the few exceptions."

I smirk and she offers me a hesitant smile that makes her gray eyes seem softer.

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was surreal meeting you."

"How so?"

"Well, upon realizing you're a model, I had you pegged as an airhead. I was pleasantly surprised to realize you were far from it."

Mathieu hands me a business card, "If you're ever in Paris." He says affectionately.

They both turn to leave and I hesitantly blurt out Belinda's name, causing them both to turn back.

"I'm not a person who delves into things like this but I was just curious…"

"Yes?"

"This man Nikolai… You're with him?"

She nods. Mathieu looks interested at what I was trying to ask.

"I just… Well, you both seem…"

"Oh!" She looks surprised at what I was getting at. "So am I… I mean… What are you exactly asking?"

"It's just… How can you be involved with one person whom you claim to love and still share this kind of intimacy with a different man?"

Belinda ponders about this for a moment and after a while she just gives me this slow, mysterious smile.

"I love them both. Isn't that odd? Sometimes I wish they were just one person, but I love them both. Wouldn't that be nice? Nikolai Mathieu De Comte."

"But what if you had to choose?"

She shrugs.

"I'd really prefer not to."

"But what if you had to?" I press.

She looks at Mathieu and he only shrugs and smiles.

"Mathieu." She replies quietly, "I'd choose Mathieu."

"Even though he shot you?"

"Yes, but I hurt him back just as much. It's a cycle."

They both leave after that and Isabel gives me a hug, which I don't exactly try to escape, but at the same time I don't really feel comfortable with it. If you can tell by now, I'm not a very public display of affection kind of person… Especially if you're from the same sex.

"Thanks for coming, Kathryn. It was nice seeing you again."

"Isabel, do you know who Selena is?"

And now that I really think about it, why the hell did she seem so familiar?

She frowns, "Who?"

"Selena. Sebastian mentioned her while he was high."

"Well if you're going to ask me about Sebastian's old girlfriends I'm afraid I don't exactly keep track of them."

"No… I was thinking that maybe you had a relative by that name? Perhaps she was his cousin? Sister? Aunt? Anything?"

She looks at me funny, "Sebastian's an only child."

Who the hell was she then?? I can only come to the conclusion that she was, indeed, an old girlfriend. I did recall Blaine telling me about how he'd dated an older girl whom he'd almost loved, only to have the little slut bang Daddy Valmont instead. Hmm. Was there a name then? Selena? The seventeen-year-old beautiful slut who crushed young Sebastian's already fucked up heart?

I thank her with growing unease as the mystery digs deeper than I've ever thought about. I've spent my time back in New York trying to figure out Conner when my own stepbrother had kept so much from me.

As I get in the car, I realize that Sebastian's already there.

"…I'll be back in a few hours, we can have coffee if you want." He was saying, totally ignoring me. I don't take this too well. I slam the door harder than necessary but he still doesn't notice me.

He pauses, nodding. He smiles slightly. "I'm glad… Conner's wedding was fine… Uh huh… Alright, I'll see you soon. Bye, Annette."

If there is one word in the entire world that could get me easily riled up, it is that name. Annette. A-fucking-nette. As predicted, I can't keep my silence because as soon as he closes his phone, he finally glances at me as though waiting for me to express my dislike yet again.

"Please tell me you know another girl with the name Annette and that we're not talking about the same knocked up hick."

"Will you please get over that already?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed. "Annette's visiting her father and we're going out for coffee."

"Coffee." I repeat, deadpanned. "You don't drink coffee unless it's spiked with alcohol."

"No, sis. That would be you."

"Jerk." I grumble and he only grins at that. "I'm not sitting next to you in the plane."

"A bit childish, won't you agree?"

"Well, considering the fact that you practically assaulted me back in that Colombian club, I'd say I have the right to my space on the way back."

He looks hurt, "I did _not_ assault you. Besides, you were kissing me back. It takes two people to fuck, Kathryn. From the way you were acting, it surely couldn't be called rape. In fact, if I recall correctly… You were even begging me to fuck you more."

I colored again, putting on my sunglasses to hide the widening of my eyes. "I was not!"

"Were too." He laughs, "Not that I didn't want to, but you looked so—"

"So what?"

"Never mind."

"So what, Sebastian?"

We were both protected by our sunglasses and I saw only a reflection of my somber expression through the lenses of his eyewear.

"Beautiful right next to me in bed." He says quietly, "You looked so beautiful and tired I didn't want to wear you out anymore."

"You pompous bastard. Are you implying that I couldn't keep up with you? Well, need I remind you that there are certain factors that could have contributed to that because you know that I can and would have outlasted you—"

"Must you ruin everything by talking?"

"Must you be such an asshole?" I counter quickly and he wrinkles his nose and moves closer to me. Wait a minute. Was he cuddling? His arm slips behind my back and his fingers curl to pull me closer to him.

"Are you really so jealous?" He says softly, nibbling on my ear.

"No."

"You know…" He continues talking in soft murmurs, pressing a button to activate the partition. "There are so many things I'd like to do to you right now…"

He palms my breast, gently kneading it. I had to clench the seat to refrain from moaning.

So much for avoiding him.

"Uh…" I make a different kind of sound. Sort of a cross between a gasp and a mutter. He starts kissing my neck, keeping his kisses light and sensual. I try not to give him the benefit of writhing even though it was all I want to do. Do I stop him or jump him? Pride or lust?

"Sebastian… I have to… oh… Tell you something…"

"What?" His voice sounds muffled as he continues kissing my neck. Oh God. Did he have to have that mouth? That hand? That hand…

"Oh my God!" I exclaim before I can stop myself. He's gone way past south now, just lingering on the very border that separated his fingers from that place. Damn his fingers. Oh, fuck his fingers.

"Sebastian, this is a Benjamin Dégat dress. It cost me two thousand dollars, please do not ruin it."

"I'll buy you ten more." He murmurs.

"Dégat is my favorite designer, you can't just easily buy me a dress exactly like this…"

"Relax. I know him, I'll ask him to make you a new one."

I push him off me, "You know Benjamin Dégat??"

"Yes, now shush."

He pinches me lightly and I yelp. Screw the Dégat dress, regardless of whether or not I followed its collection (since coming upon it in an issue of Vogue smuggled by one of my classmates when I was in boarding school) as though it was my religion, at this point he could have had it shredded before my eyes and I wouldn't give a damn.

Whatever irritation I may have had with Annette earlier has completely disappeared. However annoyed I was at his clear act of manipulation to divert my attention from his meeting with the knocked up blonde, I can't deny the fact that this was all very, very arousing. My resolve is turning into a puddle of very hot water and as soon as he feels my panties getting wet, he stops his assault and I turn to face him with my mouth open and my eyes half shut. I am so glad the airport was a good hour away from the villa.

"I want to make it good for you so you won't regret it." He whispers, his eyes are focused on my mouth as he continues to rub me.

"I uh…" I'm fumbling for words. What can I say, really? It was a loaded question, and I'm not really sure if I regretted it or not. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn't.

"And I'm not going to force you into anything… Just say stop and I will." He continues talking like I haven't just spoken. My lower body starts moving under his rhythmic stroking, my cunt was begging for his hand ohmigod what was he doing to me??

"Suh…St…"

He slips his middle finger inside of me after he pushes my panties aside.

"Motherfucker!" I cry out as he uses his thumb to massage that nub.

I let my head roll back and I bite down hard on my lower lip while I feel his eyes on me. Watching me react to him… Like he's waiting for something.

"Say yes." He leans in closer, his mouth is so near mine I can almost taste him. "Say yes to me. No alcohol, no fight, no anything left to blame it on."

He's inserted another finger into me, methodically pumping. There is a vein near his eye that looks about ready to burst, he is clenching his jaw so hard and he was trying his very best not to pull out his cock and shove it into me.

"Se…"

Selena? Sebastian? Annette? Conner?

I grab his hair and pull him roughly, our lips crashing so hard it stung. True to his word, I don't taste the alcohol as I kiss him. Lower lip between mine, his upper lip on mine, his tongue inside my mouth, gently coaxing mine to move. It does almost immediately and I moan in his mouth. My hands wander all over his body, and eventually he piles on top of me. I didn't mind. I've always liked how his weight felt on me.

Say yes?

Ah, what the hell, we'd already fucked before.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

God, I swear I hate him so much sometimes.

"I want you so much." He says, his voice raspy when his mouth starts teething on my upper breast.

"Fuck me." I say, my views of the world are tainted with lust and irrationality. "Fuck me now."

I feel him fumbling with his pants and I slip my hands under his shirt, raking my nails on his lower abdomen.

He gasps. I smile.

_Does the mysterious Selena do this to you? Does she make you feel like this?_

I cup his hard erection, ah my memorable friend. He shuts his eyes when it is my turn to stimulate him, I pause every once in a while to kiss him, which he enthusiastically returns.

When I pull his cock out of his boxers, he pulls off my underwear.

"Wait." He manages to utter, pulling out a condom, which I take with a mischievous grin.

"Planned for this, you horny little shit?"

"Mmm… Hoped would be a better term."

I tear the wrapper off and he leans against the seat (somehow we found ourselves on the floor now).

"I'll put it on."

"Let me."

I place my fingers around him and squeeze.

"God, you're so beautiful." He moans and I smile at him.

"So are you." I slip it on him easily and without warning, I straddle him. I rub the head against my opening, teasing him into madness. Without alcohol and without a fight… Like what he said. The only thing that spurred my more vigorous than usual sex craving for him was the girl. The Girl Without a Last Name. No cousin. No sister. No aunt by that name. Was she waiting for him back in New York? How come I had never heard of her? Did he hide her from me so I couldn't corrupt his opinion of her the way I had done when he was with Annette? Was it to protect her from me? Was she the girl in the photo? Was she the one he paid attention to when I was away in boarding school? Was she the one on his bed, the one who helped refine his sexual techniques and subtleties? Did he tell her he loved her as he came, did he tell her she was beautiful the way he just told me? Was she taller than me? Was she thinner? Were her cheekbones higher than mine? Was she more eloquent, more devious or more kind? Was she like me or was she like Annette?

All these questions swirled around my brain as I hold on to him. I had lost one Valmont to a different woman, was I to lose this one as well to what now seemed to be a ghost?

I feel the slippery warm wetness dripping down my inner thighs and though my initial impulse was to curse him for making such a mess of me, I quelled it. Instead, I pull his head to my breasts, grinding back and forth. Enjoying his pleasure because it mixed well with my own.

I thought of Conner and that last night. I thought of his face, eternally perfect, eternally pale and structured. I thought of the goodbye that never was, he was my secret just as Selena was Sebastian's. Was it like that?

I did not know. I did not want to know. I did not like thinking of Sebastian and Selena together, whether or not she was the breathtaking creature in the photograph.

"Hey," Sebastian inquired, looking up at me.

I look down at him. Into his blue eyes, taking into detail the blond curls and the flushed cheeks.

"Come back here." He says, smiling that boyish smile.

No. Come back _here_. I wanted to reply but I didn't.

I did what I could have done.

"Fuck me." I say again, kissing his forehead. "Fuck me hard."

He raises his erection and penetrates me deeply.

I rode him faster than I did that night in Colombia. Maybe if I did that Selena and Conner and Annette will all be forgotten.

* * *

Thanks for the tip, I do stand corrected.  



	20. Undevicesimus

_Burn! Burn!  
Motherfucking burn!_

-Marilyn Manson

"I must say, princess… You're looking well." Blaine strolls into the living room, checking me out. "Spain's treated you nicely. And would you look at that… You're even glowing."

"Am I?" I smile pleasantly, fluffing my hair up and preening in front of him.

"Yeah. It looks like you just had sex. Or you're pregnant. I suppose it's just one of those things women experience."

"Okay, yes I just had sex. I am _not_ pregnant."

"Ooohhh who'd you have sex with? You've been here a few hours and you've already been fucked?" He looks at me in wonder; "Some people handle the jetlag by sleeping. You handle it by fucking… I envy you." 

"Hey Kathryn, do you know where my shirt went? That was my favorite and I was going to have it dry cleaned…"

"Under the bed!" I yell back, silently laughing at Blaine's shocked expression.

We both hear footsteps and the sound of a door opening as Sebastian rummages through my currently messy bedroom (he had picked me up as soon as we arrived, I had tried to fight him off because my back was sore and I wasn't in the mood, but then he started kissing me and doing wondrous things to my mouth and my body that I couldn't help but respond. Needless to say, we ended up in bed for an hour).

"You and-!"

"Me and who?" I ask innocently.

"Oh. My. God."

"Found it!" We both hear Sebastian call out triumphantly, he closes the door to my room and opens his, presumably to place his shirt inside the hamper.

Blaine stares at me like I had just told him I was now a full-fledged lesbian.

"Are you and-?"

"What? No. No, we're just-"

Sebastian interrupts my response as he enters the living room, obviously in a hurry. He is holding a bagel in one hand and trying to button his shirt with the other.

"Shoes?" He inquires, smiling at me. "Oh, hey Tuttle."

"How the hell should I know where your shoes are? You were the one who threw it over your shoulder."

"I meant the other one. That's the one you pulled off when we were-"

I give him an intimidating glare, "Do you think it prudent to share our explicit relations with Blaine?"

"Oh, come on." Sebastian chuckles, leaning toward me. I try to avoid the bagel from touching my skin. "Blaine's even gone down on you that one time at a party. Are you still shy about sex in front of him?"

"You told him about that night??" Blaine whines, scowling. "I was drunk!"

"It's okay, Blaine. If you really think about it, who _hasn't_ gone down on her?"

I shove him, "Sebastian!"

He smiles angelically (though I know he's far from it), wrapping his arms around me. "What? You can't shove me for telling the truth."

"You're so mean." I complain while he neatly throws the uneaten bagel a few feet away from us ("How hygienic of you, Valmont." "The servants will get it later."). I squirm in his arms while he starts kissing my neck. "That tickles."

"So… you're like a couple now?"

"No." We both say at the same time.

"We just like fucking each other. It's such fun."

"Of course it's fun for you." Sebastian says, "The other guys you usually fuck are complete morons."

"Conner isn't."

Since he is pressed against me, I feel him stiffen. The mere mention of that name to him was like mentioning Annette's name to me. It incited too many memories that destroy a good mood.

He lets me go as he glances at his watch.

"Gotta go." He tells us, his face now somber. "I'm meeting Annette in a few minutes."

"Okay." I hedge, wrapping my arms around myself. "I'll see you later?"

"Actually… I'm not spending the night here."

"What about my party?" Blaine interjects, "I had a welcome back party all set up for you guys tonight."

I tug Sebastian's arm, feeling possessive. "Come?"

"Well…" He pauses and I kiss him to persuade him more. "I already did, remember? Twice."

"I'm not joking, okay? I want you to come to the party."

"With you?"

"Of course with me, you idiot. We live in the same house."

"I can't…"

"Why?" I ask, my voice rises. "Why can't you? Are you going to fuck Annette? Is that it?"

"Why do you automatically assume that when I go out with a girl, I end up fucking her?"

"Because you do."

"I do not."

"Alright, who's the last female you went out with who was attractive and not your blood relative that you didn't end up fucking?"

He thinks for a moment and there is a long pause that meant his defeat in the argument.

"My point exactly. So why can't you come?"

"Because I already have somewhere I have to be." He replies softly, "I'm sorry, okay? Why are you getting worked up over this?"

"For two people who say they're not a couple, you're really acting like one." Blaine comments innocently, watching us.

"Shut up." I glare at my so-called-friend, soon to be the late Blaine Tuttle if he doesn't learn how to shut the hell up.

"Come on, Kathryn… Don't be mad we had a good time, right?" Sebastian caresses my arm, a move I immediately recognized to be the thing he does when he's breaking up with a girlfriend who was about to get emotional. "Besides, aren't you sick of me? Being stuck with me and all while we were in Colombia and Madrid? Surely you'd want your space now and I'm not going to stifle you."

"Fuck you." I scowl, "Fine. Go."

His phone's ringing again and I glance at the display. It is an unlisted number but clearly a familiar one since he has this look on his face… It was the same look he'd gotten when he realized an old girlfriend had barged in on him about to fuck another conquest. Troubled, yet he remained detached and in control.

He presses the Reject button and places it in his pocket, sighing. He takes me by the arm and leads me a few feet away from Blaine, looking at me steadily.

"Would you really like me to be at the party?" He asks, finishing the buttons of his shirt while I shift my weight. I suddenly feel vulnerable in my robe.

"No. I'm not going to beg if that's what you want. You're right, maybe I _am_ sick of you. Go where you want to, I don't care."

I'm being a bitch but I didn't really care. I'm not going to chase after him and plead; I had way more fucking pride than that.

He scratches his head and breathes heavily, "Okay, I'll go."

"You sound like you're being forced to go. You're not."

"I am not being forced, okay? You clearly want me to be there so I'm going."

"Didn't you just hear what I said? Go where you want to go. I don't care, I'll probably fuck a hot guy and you might spoil it just by being there. Carmine's just arrived from the Bahamas, maybe I'll fuck him again."

"Look at me."

I do look at him, but it is against my will. He stares at me for a moment or two before he gives me a slow smile that makes him look boyish and _almost_ innocent.

"I'm going, okay? I'm not staying long, but I'm going with you."

I shrug, "Whatever. Go if you want to."

"Of course I want to. Do you honestly think I'd let some other pathetic girl mindfuck me into going even though I have a prior appointment?"

"Are you saying I'm special?" I smile coyly, playing with his collar.

"I'm saying nothing of the sort."

"Really?" I wrinkle my nose at him and he places his hands on my waist, squeezing lightly.

"Mhmm."

"So… I'm not special?"

"You'll just have to read between the lines."

"That's what I'm doing."

"And…?" He comes closer until our mouths almost touch.

"And…"

"And this is all sweet and disturbingly very unlike the fucked up stepsiblings I know and love." Blaine interrupts, checking his nails while we ignore him.

"Be quiet, Tuttle." He smiles before he kisses me. I can feel it even when my eyes are closed, and it isn't long before I deepen the kiss. He groans slightly and pulls away when I start unbuttoning his shirt.

"I'll see you later, alright?" He leans in for another kiss but this time I am the one who denies it. Fair's fair.

"Don't bang the pregnant ex."

"Jealous?"

"No. I just think it's disgusting."

As he leaves his phone rings again and from the way his smile disappeared, I can tell it was the same caller. I resist the urge to follow him just to hear what it was all about because I'm not that type of girl and come on. I am not clingy. Besides, Blaine's watching me with some sort of annoying look on his stupid face.

"What?"

"I never thought I'd see the day, that's all."

"Well, you haven't." I reply but he only grins like he knows something I didn't. Silly blond fag.

---

Hours later.

Blaine Tuttle may annoy me at certain periods in my life but I do have to admit that I'd much rather prefer his parties than the lame charity events I often help in organizing. I may seem uptight at times but I feel somewhat relieved that I don't have to take care of seating arrangements, whether or not these people will show up, and I don't have to be careful that I'm placing some senator and his wife with his mistress or God forbid commit a similar faux pas. Sometimes it's so much easier when things are like this.

His house is predictably filled and while we hear the DJ spinning downstairs, I realize I would much rather be safely separated from the sweaty dancing bodies below.

Enter the inner circle. There aren't a lot of us since I'm not that comfortable with a lot of people. There was Blaine and Sebastian, Carmine Gianni, rumored to be a Mafia son but he's totally harmless (at least when it came to me) and even when he does act like a total asshole, I get along with him well (we fucked once), Hannah Abbot, whose mother was a famous actress, and Tara Wilkins, whose family owns a couple of exclusive and hard to get into restaurants. I mean, we aren't all close friends in a sense that we talk about our secret woes and all that crap, but Carmine, Hannah, and Tara are the only bearable ones I can really tolerate. They're not so bad, I mean, Hannah and Tara (both of whom seem too close enough for me to deduce that they are secretly lesbians) aren't like the vapid suck ups I often deal with and Carmine's the only guy I haven't really had a pseudo relationship with aside from that one time we fucked. He's pretty hot, with dark hair and blue eyes. Sort of like a morphed and Italian version of Conner and Sebastian, less the curly hair and the mouth.

Carmine hands Sebastian a glass of scotch, which my stepbrother refuses. I curl up in Carmine's side while his arm rests on top of the couch.

"I can't." He says, taking a hit of the joint Blaine was passing around. He holds the smoke in for a while, closing his eyes and leaning back. He exhales and passes the joint to Hannah, knowing I'd refuse it. "I have a long drive ahead."

"Where are you going?" I ask him, playing with Carmine's forearm while he tugs the ends of my hair gently.

"Nowhere."

I scowl.

"Guys, have I ever told you the story on when I first fucked someone?" Blaine giggles (yes, he actually giggles when he's stoned). I'm glad for the change of topic.

He gets a round of protests from us, "Dude, we all know it already." Carmine's blue eyes get smaller when he smiles.

"Ooookay, when was yours, Mafia boy?"

"I was ten. She was thirteen, daughter of one of my dad's associates." His eyes get hazy and he has a fond smile on his handsome face while he talks, and by then Hannah and Tara are both inebriated enough to start holding hands.

"Hey, come here."

I feel Sebastian's arm slip behind me and pull me to him, taking me from my comfortable position with Carmine.

"Hey yourself." I purr, kissing his cheek. It's the only place I can kiss without us looking too intimate.

"She was hot, too… Brown hair, brown eyes… Brilliant figure, even at thirteen. We did it in my room," He chuckles, "I remember being scared shitless about it, but she was totally cool."

"I bet you didn't last long." Sebastian comments and Carmine laughs.

"Hey, man. I was ten. Since then I've improved."

"I won't really care to test that."

"I would." Blaine pipes up and we all laugh easily. I've missed this, despite my discontentment with the vapid nature of my highschool relationships and connections; I've missed it a lot.

"So what about you, little princess?" Blaine smirks at me. "We all know you've had a lot of… How shall I say this? Cocks? Man meat?"

"Fuck buddies." Sebastian supplies helpfully.

"Sebastian!"

"Yes, whatever you may call it, I don't believe I've heard the story of who popped your cherry."

"Nice, Tuttle."

"A lady never tells." I shrug mysteriously, "Sorry."

The truth was, I didn't want to tell them the first guy who fucked me was my professor from boarding school. I had been thirteen and he was thirty, and before you get disgusted, he was really, really hot.

"He's probably some ugly fat guy." Hannah says and I glare at her. Fucking dyke.

"He was extremely good looking. Please don't insult my standards, especially since I happen to know that your first time consisted of your ugly ass Mexican gardener with a beer gut."

"I was drunk!" She protests.

"Sure, Hannah. Just keep telling yourself that." _No wonder you became a lesbian._

"What about your darling stepbrother?" Tara questions, wiggling herself on Hannah's lap.

Hmm. What about him? I didn't even know when he first fucked someone.

"A gentleman never tells." He mimics my tone earlier and I smack his arm for it.

"From what you did to the school nurse, I'd hardly call you a gentleman, not to mention the fact that you went down on my girlfriend during my party." Carmine says and for a moment I thought he was going to punch Sebastian but he only smiles. "You're lucky I was fucking someone else at the time. I wasn't really into her anyway, she just had a nice rack."

"Charming, Carmine."

He kisses my mouth before I can stop him, "Thanks, Kathryn."

"And you're wondering why we never dated."

"Darling, I would've been different with you." He says in a low voice, flirting.

"I was twelve." Sebastian says loudly, interrupting us. "She was beautiful. Tanned, black hair and green eyes. She was thin, not like anorexic thin… More like fragile thin… She was in an accident when she was a kid, but she dances well in spite of it."

Holy shit.

"She was going to go away for a while and we didn't know where or when but I went to her house and she asked me to… Well, you know."

"It made you into the randy boy that you are now?" Blaine finishes the bottle of scotch and stands up to get another.

Sebastian smiles like he's sad about something.

"There's a feeling I get when I take a virgin… Like I'm this powerful god who has absolute control over everything." He tilts his neck so that his cheek rests on top of my head while he wraps his arm around me. We're toeing that fine line alright, but most of our friends were already stoned and drunk so I didn't put up a fight. "But her… When I was inside her she was the one in control. She was the one who took me, and yet I didn't feel angry about it. It wasn't brilliant or graceful; it was more awkward than it was perfect. It was still the best fucking day of my life."

We are all silent for a while. He didn't really talk like that.

"Aww… How cute." Blaine calls out from across the room and it breaks the silence into more laughter. The topic changes from there and I settle against him more, hungry for that part in his life I never knew about.

I feel Carmine's hand stroking my thigh and I size him up, becoming aroused when he leans in and starts talking dirty to me.

"What do you say, Kathryn?" He smells like liquor but he's still charming. "For old time's sake?"

"I have to go." Sebastian suddenly pulls away from me when I shift my position to continue my conversation with Carmine.

"Where to, brother?" I sneer, already half drunk and horny especially now that Carmine's started fondling my breast. "Off to see slutty Selena?"

He looks gob smacked for a while before he recovers.

"None of your fucking business, Kathryn." He nods to everybody and starts to leave, only I stand up and charge after him, pushing him so that he stumbles.

"What the fuck is your problem??"

"Nothing!"

"You fucking psycho." My stepbrother continues, grabbing my arm tightly. "Why did you say her name? How do you know Selena?"

"Don't you think," I whisper through clenched teeth, "that we should continue this conversation where people can't see how roughly you manhandle me?"

"How do you know her?"

"Let me the fuck go or I swear you won't be able to drive that fucking car of yours for the next five years."

He complies. I have never been one to make idle threats. I rub my sore arm, glaring hatefully at him.

"Who is she?"

"She is none of your fucking business, Kathryn."

"Why not? Every slut you've ever banged isn't all that important."

"She is not a slut." His fists started to clench as he loses his temper quickly.

"Who is she, then?" I press further, "Some coked out whore you fuck out of pity? Is she some poor little rich girl who spreads her legs for any man who'll pay attention to her? Any man with the right surname?"

"SHE'S NOT LIKE YOU!" He bursts out of the blue as he raises his hand as though to strike me.

By then everybody else had gone silent.

"Get the fuck out." I tell him spitefully. "I don't want to see you right now."

"I'm gone, princess." He lowers his arm, not even showing a shred of remorse. "I'm fucking gone."

He leaves and slams the door behind him while I turn around with a pasted smile on my face.

"Family." I chuckle breezily, "I have the most fucked up one out of everybody else."

They all laugh uneasily. I don't say anything else. I take Carmine's hand and lead him to the next bedroom.

Fuck you.

No, really. I mean it in the sincerest possible way.

_Fuck you._

* * *

A/N: Um… Okay. How can I say this? Sorry for those of you who liked Things Unsaid, seeing as how it's been deleted. I'll be taking a break for a while, so I'm not going to update anything. I don't know for how long, I really wanted to finish this before I left but at this point I'm sorry to leave you guys hanging. I'm also not going to create a different pseudonym and write a story there. Haha. So… Whoever pops up, it's really not me. Weird comment, I know. Anyway, thanks for reading. We've had a good run, yeah? I just wanted to post so I could tell you guys. Thanks again, it's been a long time coming. 

To put it simply, I'm sorry to say that as of today's update, this story is on hiatus along with everything else. I'll really miss it but I need to concentrate on my own stuff for a while. :-D


	21. Vicesimus

_Five stitches seal the crease,  
From the fit fueled by your aching,  
You're so temperamental darling,  
With your little disease, oh how sweet. _

-The Honorary Title

I wake up with Carmine's hand on my stomach as he snored and I immediately leave. The hangover's a fucking bitch and all I really wanted to do was stay in Blaine's guest room with Carmine but I felt the urge to go home.

So I do.

When I arrive, I realize that there is an ignored stack of envelopes resting on the table.

Despite my bleary and somewhat groggy state, I recognize them immediately. Letters the universities Sebastian and I had applied to. He had applied lesser on Ivy League schools and more on foreign ones, from what I can tell. I didn't care. I was mad at him at that moment. I hope the fucker didn't get in anywhere. Maybe he'll gain forty pounds, develop acne and a beer belly in the future. Hah.

I snatch my three letters (the rest were still to follow), Yale, Princeton and Harvard. I really wanted to get into Yale and even though all I really wanted to do was sleep, I open the Yale envelope first.

In. The same went for Princeton and Harvard, too.

"Fuck yes." I smile jubilantly. My hangover seems to have gone.

My feet carry me before my mind can think. It is like there is another person inside of me almost running across the hallway and up the stairs.

Then my hand takes over. I open the door.

Then my mouth assumes control of me. My brain seems to have left the building. All I can think of was the elation I felt at that point.

"Sebastian, I got into Yale!"

And then I stop talking. I stop moving. I just glance at the empty bed.

My mind grabs the reigns from my mouth, hand and feet roughly. I think my mind even bitchslaps the aforementioned body parts.

I turn around and head to my room, where I finally sleep in the comfortable familiarity of my own bed.

Sebastian doesn't return for four days.

---

They all compliment me on my bronzed tan (courtesy of the beaches in Madrid) as I talk and chuckle amongst my friends. Has it really been so long since Annette and the bet? Finals were coming up in a few months but I remain undaunted by the pressures of schoolwork and my extracurricular involvements, not to mention the events I had yet to plan.

I fell back into the routine of my life back in New York easily, getting adored and envied and wanted by these people, these _sheep_ that hung on to my every word. On my way to class, I catch a glimpse of Adrian coming up to me. I only smile. I had missed the bastard and the companionship he gave. No strings attached, no conflicting emotions like it had been with Conner and no confusion like it is now with Sebastian.

"Hey," He grins charmingly, feeling flirtatious as always. 

"Hey back." I murmur, "Miss me?"

"Did I ever." He replies enthusiastically, obviously motivated by my lack of resistance.

He asks me out again and I wondered if he had grown tired of Amber. I really did not care, Adrian Vanderbilt III was someone I should be dating. Right name, right look, and right everything. We make plans for tomorrow and he walks me to my next class, pausing to kiss me before he leaves.

My airhead friends all swoon and sigh with envy. I notice Amber is looking a little nauseous. Later on I hear that he has dumped her. I can only laugh at these trivialities now. Serves the bitch right.

I look at where Sebastian should be seated but I find his place empty. He'd missed school for the past four days and I wondered where he was. Has he gone back to his room? Has he gotten the envelopes? Has he been accepted to the university he wanted to go to? Where did he want to go? I did not know. Somehow I feel bad that I didn't know that about him.

---

I head to the courtyard to wait for Adrian (he insisted on taking me home because he had _'missed me so much'_) only to see a familiar Jaguar pull up the curb. It is clear from the envelopes he held that he had gone back to the townhouse.

"Just in time." He smiles at me but I only glance at him. His smile shrinks and then it seems like he only remembers now that he had been a total prick to me the last time we saw each other.

"Sis…" He begins, sighing.

Sis? Really? What the fuck?

I back away.

"Adrian's taking me home."

"Kathryn, please… You caught me at a bad time then."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you in a bad mood all of a sudden?"

"I was just tired."

"Where were you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Who the fuck is Selena? Is she the girl in the photograph? Is she the girl whose cherry you fucking popped when you were twelve? Is she the same Selena you babbled on about while you were high and talking on the phone with me?"

He remains quiet.

"You've been going through my things? You nosy bitch, you had no right to do that."

"I found it by accident!" I yell so loudly a few people stop and glance at us.

He shakes his head, "It's none of your business."

"Why won't you let me know?"

"You want to know why?" He growls, throwing his envelopes back into the car.

"Yes!"

"Because you're a manipulative bitch who will use anything to get ahead and win."

I feel hurt at his tone and it is clear through the slight softening of his gaze that he feels sorry for saying what he did.

Then it was gone. Like all the other million and a half times it had happened.

"I'll see you at home." He adds curtly, leaving me there.

---

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I turn the handles installed against the wall of my bathtub with my foot, causing the steady dripping of the water to stop completely. I lean against the edge of the tub, the back of my neck cradled against a folded soft white towel.

I close my eyes and try to drift off when I hear a knock on my door.

"Kate? Can I please come in?"

Hot Sebastian. Cold Sebastian. Like the fucking water. Sometimes I wish I could turn him off completely too.

I don't reply.

On. Off. Drip. Drip.

"I'm coming in, okay?"

I remain silent. It was impossible to stop him when he wanted to come into my room, or in this case, my bathroom. The least I could do is pretend to be deaf, mute, and oblivious for a while.

He fumbles with the door, knowing that the lock was easily undone (I had yet to have it fixed). When he enters the bathroom, he comes upon me lying prostate and calm in my own small sea of bubbles and warm water. The mist rises up from the surface and I bask in the steam. It turned my slightly tanned body into a rosy color.

He sits cross-legged in front of me and I ignore him, playing with the water taps absentmindedly.

"I got into Yale." He remarks, trying to smile.

I don't even look at him. His smile fades.

"But I also got into Princeton, and I think that's where I really want to go. I'm still waiting to hear from other schools though… There are some really great ones in Europe. My dad wanted me to go to Yale but I think I like Princeton better. Who'd have thought I'd get in, right? I mean, after that incident with the school nurse I thought I'd be blacklisted for sure."

Drip. Drip.

"What about you? You got into Yale too, right? Of course that's where you're going… You're right for that school, you know. You'd fit in well."

Drip.

His hand reaches out to touch my face and I remain still. His thumb strokes my cheek gently.

"I am so sorry I yelled at you." He says softly, "I really am."

Drip.

Drip.

"Please say something."

Say something? He's lucky I didn't hit him with something.

Drip.

He withdraws his hand, wiping it with the nearby towel.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Sebastian leans in and tries to kiss me.

I turn my head away and stare at him. "You've changed."

"So have you."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have. Ever since Conner."

"Ever since Annette." I counter.

"Fucking people." He replies. "I hate them for doing this."

I had to smile a bit at that.

He sees the faintest trace of that and jumps at the chance.

"Would you mind terribly," He smiles at me, looking so handsome now that he has apologized and is repentant of what he had done. "If I joined you in bath?"

I pretend to ponder the thought, "Well, are you going to spend the night here this time?"

"In the house?" He asks, stripping quickly. My stepbrother has the kind of figure I had always wanted in a man. Muscular and sinewy, the kind that was perfect to touch and press against. Conner had been slightly more muscular than him, his body harder and seemingly tougher. I liked the different kind of delicacy Sebastian's body possessed. Strong and gentle. He steps in and hisses at the heat. I only laugh and move to the side, making space for him.

"No. In my room."

I feel his hands on my waist and I allow myself to be pulled. I lean against his chest, my back to him. Our arms touch and intertwine. Was I weak for succumbing at that moment? Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that it's tiring to fight with him all the time.

"Kathryn," His voice sounds low and husky in my ear. "Would you like me to spend the night in your room?"

"Would you?"

"Of course I would."

He starts kissing my neck and I don't move at all. I allow myself to be touched, somewhere in the sea of warm water and steam that held our bodies, I imagined I was off the coast of Madrid, drifting, with only Sebastian to keep me afloat.

"Just say stop it gets too much." He whispers and his voice only lulls me into a deeper form of relaxation. "Don't run away like you did the last time. I'm not forcing you into anything."

"Kay." I reply. I turn around and our eyes meet. I touch his plump mouth, watching in fascination as it parts at the touch of my fingers.

"Okay." He agrees, kissing it.

Eventually, we don't talk at all.

---

It was 3:02 in the morning when I awakened.

I am drowsy and tired, yet safely ensconced in Sebastian's arms as he slept on his side facing me, his hand on top of my stomach while the other one rested limply between us.

I try moving his fingers but he stirs and his dry, soft mouth plants a kiss on my back.

"Stay." He says, his voice raspy.

I smile and pretend to drift off into sleep, pressing myself closer to him while he resumes his slumber.

The sliver of light from the hallway passing through the crack under my door catches my attention. All the lights were turned off before we retired for the night.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There is a faint sound of knuckles against Sebastian's door, but I can't understand who would do such a thing. Normally the servants never disturbed us.

"Sebastian, please open the door."

A voice. Female. Soft spoken, yet deep in tone.

I glance at him and wonder if he had given the doorman permission to let some crazy girlfriend/conquest of his come and go into the house as she pleased, only I knew that it wasn't the case.

The knocks become quicker and more persistent.

"I need you right now."

I nudge him, trying to wake him up but he only groans and turns to the other side.

"Sebastian, one of your wackjob debutantes has gotten inside the house."

He doesn't reply.

"Sebastian!" I hiss again, but still there's no response.

I stand up unsteadily and place a call to security downstairs. My hands are growing cold. I stand near my door and look at the floor, watching in fascination as the shadow that was intruding upon our privacy continued to pace.

In a matter of minutes I hear footsteps that can only come from the burly guard whose name I forgot.

"Ms.?" I hear him ask pleasantly, albeit a bit guarded. "Mr. Valmont isn't here for the night, may I know who you are?"

"My name," said the voice slowly, and despite the eerie circumstances I find that I do not fear her. "is Selena. Sebastian's expecting me."

That name again. I pull on my bathrobe and open the door; my curiosity was far greater than my regard for my safety.

There she was. The gorgeous enigma. She surprisingly isn't that tall, although she passes me by a few inches. Her face is small and delicately structured, with a cleft chin and thin lips. Her hair was the same as it was in the photograph and her eyes were deeper than mine, deeper set, deeper green, deeper everything… Like she had more secrets than I did.

"Hello." She addresses me politely and I can almost forgive her for scaring the fuck out of me because there is something about her. Something melancholic and sad, I feel as though if the thing they call beautiful tragedy became a person, it would be her. "I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion but I was looking for Sebastian."

I regain my haughty composure easily.

"Forgive me for snapping at you and while my friends would attest that I'm a normally pleasant hostess, I think I have the right to ask you what the fuck you think you're doing at 3 in the morning, coming into this house?"

"I needed to see him." She replies quietly, "He said I could go here whenever I want to."

"Well, this is not entirely his fucking house." I glare at her, frustrated at how she seemed to be unruffled by my catty attitude. "Unless it's escaped your observation, I live here too."

I felt a warm pair of arms circle my waist, "Kathryn, can we just go back to bed?" Sebastian whispers from behind the door, his forearms are the only ones visible from the outside. I wanted to hide him from her and be selfish, he is mine.

_ Fuck off princess._

Selena approaches me and she glances at Sebastian's arms before a fond smile appears on her face. How the fuck can she recognize him by his arms??

"I need him for a while, Kathryn. Please let me borrow him."

"Kathryn? What's going on?"

His voice, thick with sleep and utterly oblivious.

"He's not here. This is my boyfriend Adrian." I lie, staring at her straight on.

"Yes, he is."

She takes his hand and squeezes it.

"Seb." She murmurs in her sad voice. "Can you come with me right now?"

I feel him suddenly awaken, like her voice was enough to bring him back. Were my shoving, pushing, and prodding insufficient to wake him?

He lets go of me quickly and steps into view, wearing his boxers.

"What's wrong?" He asks, pulling her into a hug. "Are you alright?"

"Sebastian," I begin as placidly as I could, ignoring the shocked expression of the guard when he realizes Sebastian was sleeping in my room. "who the fuck is she?"

He's stroking her hair, and whispering something in her ear. I wanted to hit him.

"Sebastian?" I did not take lightly to being ignored. "If you don't acknowledge me within the next five seconds I'm going to kill you."

Finally, he does look at me. They both do, and they are so divine and perfect the way Conner and Alana were that it angers me.

"It's a secret." He tells me.

"Yes." She echoes, holding him against her. "It's a secret."

_ Fuck._

I sit up straight and gasp.

It's morning now.

Sebastian is gone. I look over to his side of the bed and it is empty, daylight streams through the windows and I look around.

"Sebastian? Sebastian!"

He appears from the bathroom, looking freshly showered.

"A bit too early to be clingy, sis."

"I just… I… It was so real." I add the last bit without intending to and this catches his interest.

"What was so real?" He takes a seat beside me and touches my shoulder in concern. "You mean last night? Yeah, it did happen."

_It what! _

"It did?"

He looks at me oddly before smiling, "Yes. We did fuck. I think we're also sort of dating, but that wasn't clarified."

"I mean… 3 AM…"

"3 AM? We slept through the night, what are you talking about?" His eyebrows scrunch up, "Are you okay? Have you taken anything?"

"No." I reply coldly. "I had a dream."

"Aw… That's so cute. You're scared about a dream you had?"

"Fuck you."

I stand up and stomp to the bathroom, brushing my teeth with vigor. I stare at the mirror and wonder if I'm losing my mind over someone who may or may not even be as significant as I imagined.

I spit at the sink angrily, rinsing my mouth before practically throwing my toothbrush down.

"Kathryn, tell me what the fuck is going on."

"Don't you dare belittle me!" I yell at him, "I am not one of your stupid girlfriends, the ones you can easily annoy and fuck with!"

He looks taken aback at my outburst and he grabs my shoulders, as though literally shaking me might help.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Let me go!"

He shakes me harder this time, "Kathryn, please tell me what's wrong."

"Is it so bad that I looked for you? Huh? Is it? Does it have to mean anything, Valmont? Do you have to get on my case all the fucking time?"

"What?" He replies, utterly perplexed. "No, I was just… No… It doesn't have to mean anything okay? I'm sorry I didn't realize… It's fine, you don't have to tell me about your dream, Kathryn. Just… Just stop freaking out, okay? Just stop… Come here, I was right here all along. Just stop ranting…"

He's rubbing my back soothingly and I don't take being coddled like a child too well because I wrench away from him and turn on the showers.

"Hey…" He starts kissing my neck, "I've been here, okay? Don't be mad."

I let him suffer for a few more seconds before I hesitantly pull his arm, "Join me?"

Finally, he smiles. "Of course."

…Even though he's already taken a bath. Even though I just went off on him at ten in the fucking morning on a Saturday for no apparent reason other than a dream I refused to tell him about. Even though in another time, he would have called me a neurotic bitch and slammed the door as he left.

I was right. He had changed. He was also right in saying that it was the same for me.

I hold his face in my hands, watching as the water cascaded down his cheeks like tears. I remember thinking that whenever he brought a dark haired conquest that had my general attributes home, she is just a poor imitation of me.

But Selena… It led me to think. Was she an imitation of me or was I of her?

As he begins touching me, I resolve not to let it get to my head. I will not let it bother me.

But then again, maybe it's already too late.

* * *

Hello! I got pretty great feedback on my original story and I have another one up for review so I'm pretty psyched because of the first thing I said and pretty anxious on the second thing I mentioned. It's really different because they tend to chew me to bits so I'm always a nervous wreck when I post something to be read. It's okay. I learn a lot. Anyway, I just went here and caught up on my KS. Then I realized I really did miss it, so here it is. I'm not going to be able to work on this as quickly as I did before, but I'll try to update once in a while. Hurrah! Hahaha. :) 

Hope y'all enjoyed this installment. Am I not sneaky for putting Selena and making you guys think it was real?

Oh, and be sure to check out my The Dead of Night by oneamsoundstage. It's pretty good. ;-D


	22. Vicesimus Primus

_  
_

_And she pulled you in._

_And she bit your lip._

_And she made you hers._

¬-Dashboard Confessional

One week later— 

Dearest Kathryn,

It's peculiar how today of all days, I thought of you. Not to say that I haven't thought of you ever since that night, but you know what I mean.

How long has it been since we spoke? Can we ever really talk the way we used to, when things weren't awkward and we would have never conceived the thought of ending up in bed? I miss that. I miss you most of all. Spain is terribly lonely without you.

I know we agreed that we shouldn't have any form of communication but I think it's just wrong to stop it when we decided to end things. I would still like to talk to you, maybe even hear your voice from time to time. I always did have the best conversations with you. Do you think it's possible? I hope so.

I would spare you the details of my honeymoon, seeing as how it would be strange to tell someone I had an affair with all about my sexual encounters with my wife. If you decide to reply to this letter (I am hoping you will, because as of right now I am too cowardly to try calling you for fear that you will tell me to fuck off), I'd ask you to do the same. Call me crazy, but despite the amiable ending it still sucks when I hear all about your debaucheries. I told you there would always be something. I didn't lie.

But yes, Alana is fine. You might not believe it, but I really do love her. Perhaps not as much as I love you, but it's there. We've already moved into the house I had commissioned to build for her, it has the most incredible view of the sea and when things have all been fixed and I can be assured that it will not cause any of us some form of discomfort, I would like you visit. You would love the view. I remember that after you visited from boarding school, I had taken you to the beach and you just had this big smile on your face.

Sebastian had been away at the time and it had just been the two of us, do you remember that? I think I was dating someone from your school then, but when she was back in the hotel, I went to you and you just asked me to take you away. You had been on the phone with someone and you were crying… You told me that your grandfather had died. You were so little then, at age fifteen. At that moment you looked so much younger than what you truly were, and you flinched when I tried to touch you but eventually I got to hug you and you were crying so loud. You said your Papa was the only one in your family that you liked. You said that you wanted to call Sebastian to tell him but he never answered the phone and in your anger you threw your cell phone across the room.

I think that was pretty much when I knew that I really wouldn't be able to think of you as a little sister. I suppose you didn't know that, did you? When you clung to me, I felt you tremble and being the stupid bastard that I am, my initial impulse wasn't to tell you that it was going to be okay (the way people usually say when they wanted to comfort someone), no, my initial impulse was to kiss you. I wanted to so badly, but I didn't. I was twenty-one, you were fifteen. I could have gotten jailed for even having these thoughts about you. Thinking back on it now and remembering our conversations in bed, I wish I had kissed you then. Maybe things would have turned out differently, but I suppose I didn't want to take advantage of your grief. I didn't want to scare you away so I just hugged you tightly and we went out for a walk. Somehow we ended back on the beach and it was nighttime, my girlfriend had exhausted herself trying to call me but I turned my phone off.

I remember it so vividly. We sat there and you were right beside me not speaking, and eventually I told you that I didn't want you looking so sad. You just looked at me with those green eyes of yours and you wrapped your arms around me. We laid down on our back, with you cuddled next to me. You fell asleep like that.

It's one of the best memories of my life. Sometimes, when I lie still enough, I can still feel the grains of sand that stuck to my skin and I can still smell the ocean breeze. I can still see you beside me, beautiful at fifteen, with the marks of a promise for better things to come.

I don't know what my purpose is for sending this letter. The last thing I would like to happen is for you to be conflicted again, and by now I can imagine that you're getting on with your life. How is Yale? I know that you'd like to go there; I'm not reserving any form of luck to wish you. You'd get in. You're meant for only the best in life.

I know that you'll have days when the entire world will feel like shit and you'll be so stressed and furious you'd want to do something stupid, like take drugs. I also know that Sebastian's there, and I'm not trying to ingratiate myself in that manner. For whatever reason, in case you call him and he doesn't answer like he did that day at the beach, I hope you'll remember that I'm still here.

Yours,  
Conner

---

I slip the letter inside the locked drawer, smiling to myself as I fiddle with the key.

"Kathryn, Jock Strap's here." Sebastian knocks on my door and I look up, startled when he enters quickly.

"I'd really appreciate it if you stopped calling Adrian 'Jock Strap'. Do you really want me to call _your_ girlfriend 'Tramp'?" I respond cattily, turning around. "Zip me up?"

"In my defense," He goes to me and caresses my bare back, obviously enjoying himself. "She happens to be a very accomplished model."

"A model? Sure, a model for Sluts and Whores Monthly."

He starts laughing at pretty soon, I am laughing too. He slips his hands beneath my dress and I hear his breath catch when he realizes I wasn't wearing a bra.

"Door." I mewl softly, this time making sure that the door would indeed be locked. It becomes a struggle for me to lock it securely, but lock it I do.

"No bra." He kisses my neck, soft and small sensual kisses that would make my toes curl every time he does it.

"Mhmm…" I take his hand and place it on my crotch, "None of that either…"

"What are you trying to do to me, you vixen?" He groans, pressing his hard on against my butt.

"Make you incredibly horny?" I breathe, grinding against him.

"If that's your intention, it's working brilliantly." He bites my earlobe.

"I bet it is…" I purr, turning around so I can kiss him.

We makeout for a few minutes and the only sounds that can be heard are the sounds of our mouths and the sounds of inhalations and exhalations as the air passed in and out of our nostrils in a desperate act to breathe; to continue living and kissing and connecting like this.

"Sebastian, I have to go…" I kiss him, move away, and then kiss him again like I can't stop myself from feeling his mouth on mine because I feel euphoric when I am with him.

"Mkay," He pulls away, looking down to realize that somewhere in the midst of our kissing I had my legs wrapped around his waist and he was holding my waist for support.

"Let me go now."

"Okay." He kisses me again and again and then his lips move to my neck and hits that spot where it tickled and I laugh.

He stops kissing me and now he's looking at me like he has just witnessed a miracle.

"What?" I ask, feeling self conscious and confused.

"I only heard you laugh like that when you were with Conner."

"Oh."

I unhook my legs and he helps me down, finally zipping up my dress.

"Jock Strap's probably jerking off in the living room out of sheer boredom. There's a picture of you there and the perv must have already gotten a hold of it."

"Well," I grin cheekily, "Tramp's probably off fucking some other moron who has a larger cock than yours. I can't blame her, sometimes when you're fucking me I'm not sure if I'm being fingered or if that's actually your dick."

His mouth drops open and he lunges at me, tackling me. We land on the bed in fits of laughter and he pins my arms to the sides of my head.

"Take it back!"

"No!"

We both hear a knock on the door and we freeze upon realizing that it was my boyfriend's impatient sounding voice talking.

"Get off me now, I really have to go." I push him away from me and he groans and clutches his heart in mock hurt.

"Yeah, yeah. That's what you do anyway, you just use me for my body."

I fix myself up in front of the mirror, reapplying my lipstick since most of it was now on my stepbrother's mouth. I straighten my dress while Sebastian wipes off the lipstick from his lips.

"See you later?" I look at him, smiling pleasantly. He doesn't smile back. He's watching me like he wants to say something. I know that expression.

I gather my things inside my purse and stand up, taking one last look at the mirror.

"Kathryn?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want you to go out with him anymore."

"Excuse me?"

He finally looks at me and his blue eyes look so vulnerable I can understand how all his conquests have fallen for him. Not that I am, falling for him I mean, but I understand the logic behind this phenomena. Girls want Sebastian because they think they can change him, and they're willing to do almost anything he asked because they're under the impression that he's being sincere. I wasn't going to be a part of that… But there was something about the way he looked at me at that point. Something drastically different than the way he acted with the other twits.

"I don't want him to touch you and kiss you anymore. It makes me feel sick thinking about it."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm jealous, okay?" He starts pacing. He only does that when he's nervous and anxious. "I mean, I don't like it. I'm pretty sure that you don't either. Don't run away or avoid me like some neurotic psycho, and I know I'm risking a lot just by telling you this. It doesn't mean that I love you or anything like that, but I want to be honest with you. I feel jealous when I see you with him. I don't want you to see him anymore because I don't want another Conner incident."

"There won't be a Conner incident."

Was he even kidding? Can he even compare Adrian to Conner, the eternally perfect once obsession?

"I just don't want to lose you again."

"Come here." I hold out my hand and he takes it hesitantly.

"Can we talk about this later?"

"Alright."

---

I pull out my cell phone and dial a number all too familiar to me.

"Hello?" Conner sounds slightly out of breath. I didn't want to think of what he'd been doing.

It was a relief to hear his voice again, "Hi."

"Kathryn?" He moves around a bit and I hear him pull on a pair of pants.

"Sorry, were you just having sex?"

He chuckles, "No, Alana just left a while ago. I just got back from the bathroom, which is like an entire world away from our room because the bathroom in our bedroom got flooded, I heard my phone ring and… Well, never mind. Wow… it's… nice to hear from you."

"Conner, can you get me a towel?"

I recognize that sultry voice immediately and you can only imagine my shock.

"Oh my God. Is that Belinda?? Are you with her??"

"What? No! Her boyfriend's a friend of mine and they're staying here for a couple of days since the paparazzi's been hounding them."

"You horny, horny man."

"Kathryn, it's not like that."

"Never mind, I got your letter."

"Really? I was wondering when that would get there… So… you sound sad." He sounds worried, "What's wrong?"

"I've been fucking Sebastian."

He remains quiet for a long time. I wonder if that hurts him.

"Conner?"

"Yes." He replies after a moment's hesitation. "I'm here."

"He doesn't want me seeing Adrian anymore."

"Oh, Vanderbilt? You're still with that jackass?"

"Conner, focus. I dumped him a few minutes ago and now I'm waiting for my ride to arrive."

"Right. Well, what do you want me to say?"

"What do I do? It's just... I don't know, I mean, I don't want to give him the upper hand. If I agree, then that means he's got some sort of power over me."

He's silent again.

"Conner?"

"I'm not the best person to ask for advice, Kathryn. Not when it comes to this."

"I didn't know who else to talk to. Blaine's out of the country and I don't know where he is and I can't exactly call one of my pseudo friends about it."

"Okay…" He muses, sighing. "I suppose if I tell you crap like 'Listen to your heart' you'd hang up on me?"

"Not only that, I'll slap you when I get the chance."

"I told you you'd end up with him."

"Was that before or after you fucked my brains out?" I tease him, missing our banter.

"Naughty girl, flirting with a married man." He chuckles and then his voice turns serious. "Seriously, though… Kate, I know how you can get at times and well, if you keep running and fucking random men when it gets too much with him, you might find that while we Valmont men are generally charismatic and very attached to the women we develop feelings for, we won't wait forever."

"That's the kind of wisdom I was searching for."

"Not only are we Valmont men insanely good looking and charismatic, we also happen to be very intelligent."

I laugh.

"On a more serious note… I miss you."

"I miss you, too. I have to go now."

"Okay."

---

Just as I had expected, I find Sebastian waiting for me in my room. He was busily writing in his journal, dressed in only loose drawstring pants and (of course), he didn't have his shirt on.

He looks up when I enter my room and I look him over, "Alright, Sebastian. I get it, you're being really subtle here, but I think I get the point. You're good looking and you're not fat." I drawl, trying to lighten the mood.

"Shut up." He closes his journal and stands up, "So?"

"So what?"

"Are you going to stop seeing him?"

I shrug, heading to my closet to put out my nightwear. "Okay."

He doesn't talk. I wait for a few seconds and pull out my pale blue silk nightgown, admiring it.

"Valmont? Are you still alive?"

He doesn't answer.

I step out and find him staring at me.

"Okay, that's seriously getting creepy. Have you even blinked yet?"

"You mean it?" He asks. "If you're just screwing with me, it's not funny."

"Yes, I mean it. Now, this doesn't mean that I have to inform you of my whereabouts like what girlfriends usually do to their boyfriends. I'm not like that. I'm not going to call myself your girlfriend, because technically you're still involved with Trampie McWhore. By the way, if you don't want me seeing other people, then I don't want you to see the whore as well."

"Done."

"And even after you break up with her, I'm still not your girlfriend."

"Can I call you my bitch?"

"Only if you have a death wish." I roll my eyes, "Now, it doesn't mean that I'm pussywhipped in any way, and I'm still allowed to fuck other people occasionally. I mean, what if I got horny all of a sudden and it falls on your two week thing?"

I undress before him casually, continuing my rant. "Let's get this straight. Just because I'm letting you dictate me in this manner doesn't mean that you own me. I'm not going to—"

He comes up to me and pushes my hair back, caressing my face with gentle hands.

"Kathryn, please be quiet."

"Like that! See that? You can't order me to be quiet when I'm not done-"

He cuts me off with a knee-weakening kiss and I quickly pull the dangling end of his drawstring pants, causing it to fall down to his thighs. We land on my bed and he discards it easily, kicking it as he covers my entire body with kisses. I'm moaning and rubbing my highly aroused body against him. His talented hands are making me purr and I play with his hair, giving back just as good as I got, if not more intensely.

I'm so wet I can feel my hunger to be filled by him increasing, and as if to prove a point, I roll us over so that I am on top.

"I'm not top." I demand and he smiles with his swollen kissed mouth and his handsome face flushed and aroused.

"Not tonight." He pivots his body so I am pinned under him again, seemingly helpless when his hands cover mine. My open legs are wrapped around his waist and I can feel his erection rubbing against the fabric of my underwear but he still doesn't enter me.

"That's unfair!"

"Tough shit." He retorts, kissing me and kissing me until we both had to pull away. We are both breathless and wanting, excited and anxious. What was this? What was happening?

"Jerk." I pout.

"Hey." He says quietly, any trace of laughter gone on his face. He removes his hands from mine and he touches my cheekbones, stroking my face. "I'm about to tell you something right now that I really mean, okay?"

"What is it?" I'm squirming now. I want him inside of me so badly and although I was wearing a favorite pair of underwear, I was willing to let him rip it.

"You make me really happy."

I stare slack jawed.

He smiles.

Something is screaming for me to_... push him off and leave! Get the hell out before it gets worse! Go! Go! Get the fuck out Kathryn! This is going to turn into shit and you know it!_

But I stay where I am. Maybe it will. Maybe Selena will fuck it up, but right now he is with me._  
_

I smile back.

* * *

4 days until the writing program application comes out! Wish me lots and lots and lots of luck:D  


Been writing a few originals and I felt pretty good so I decided to take a break from that and update here. I promised to finish this so I will, bit by bit.


	23. Vicesimus Secundus

_Going out and laughing at nothing,_

_Drinking, kissing, pushing and shoving,_

_Staying in bed till we get sore_

_Calling in sick, so we can lay there_

_You and me, it's you and me._

-Vega4

Sebastian's staring at me from across the room and even though this seems to be a déjà vu, this time I don't feel irritated at all. 

"Stop." I mouth, smiling. Carmine sits right next to me and places his hand on my thigh, his thumb rubs underneath my skirt and I stiffen automatically. Adrian looks up from his notebook (where he undoubtedly had been doodling utter nonsense instead of listening to the lecture) and gives me a wave, which I only smile at. Although I had broken up with him he still remained optimistic.

What's the rule on orgies? Mmm… The only one missing was Conner and then I would really have a good time.

"Just wanted to say you look hot today, Kathryn." Carmine whispers in my ear, his scruffy jaw tickles my cheek and I lower my hand to cover his in an attempt to stop him.

"..Marx's view of history, called historical materialism, was influenced by Hegel's claim that…"

I press my legs together as his hand creeps upward dangerously. I'm trying my best not to react but Sebastian knows me too well. I risk a glance at him. He's watching us intently and a scowl begins to form on his face.

"Not here." I hiss at Carmine. I wanted to avoid what I felt was going to be another fight with Sebastian.

"Why not? You already dumped Vanderbilt anyway, it's time to step it up don't you think?" He says matter-of-factly, pinching my inner thigh. I jump slightly. Sebastian's glaring at me now.

I widen my eyes and appear to look innocent, giving him a look that told him I couldn't help it.

"I am not going out with you." I reply in a low undertone, grabbing his hand to get him off me. I am relieved to realize that the class has ended and I quickly leave him.

But he's persistent.

"Babe," He slings his arm around my shoulders, smiling cheekily. "we're great together."

"Carmine…" I purr, stroking his jaw. His blue eyes narrow suggestively and I press myself closer.

"Mmm?"

"Trust me when I say that you would not be able to keep up with me." I tiptoe and kiss his cheek while he groans out loud.

"Damn, Kathryn. That's cold!" He says in mock dismay and I laugh as he puts his hand over his chest.

"That's my sister, the ice princess." Sebastian drawls. His demeanor is easygoing yet I know he's a little miffed.

"Valmont, you never went to bed with her? You guys aren't really related, right? I mean, she's hot. You don't know what you're missing."

Sebastian glances at me, "I have a pretty good idea."

Carmine chuckles and leaves us standing there.

"You really can't help it?" Sebastian finally sighs, his eyes probing into mine.

"Nothing happened." I reply, gesturing for us to walk. He follows me and holds out his hand. I give him my books only to realize that in some weird sense we're acting like a couple. Strange. I didn't find it the least bit uncomfortable. I always thought I would.

He doesn't reply. I roll my eyes and force a smile when a few schoolmates greet me.

"Oh, stop acting like a sullen teenager."

"I am a sullen teenager."

"No, you're not." We both step into the cafeteria, taking a seat. I hoped no one would bother us. "You're Sebastian fucking Valmont. Please don't make me doubt my decision."

"Thank you, I'm well aware of that."

"Really, are you going to act like one of my clingy boyfriends? It really doesn't suit you."

"At this point do you actually think I want this?"

I frown, "You don't?"

He looks confused at first and then waves my question away impatiently. "That's not my point. I do want this. I just don't like how it's going."

"Sebastian, did you even see me tell Carmine to try to finger me?"

"…No."

"My point exactly."

"But you kept flirting with him."

"Brother, are you actually jealous?" I gasp in surprise, trying not to smile while he scowls some more.

"Of course I'm fucking jealous. You're my girlfriend for fuck's sake, Kathryn. What do you expect?" He snaps, not realizing what he had just said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You know what I mean."

"Actually, I don't."

"What's the point in all these games?"

"I know, but being your girlfriend makes you sound so proprietary of me."

"Princess," He leans forward to whisper in my ear. I feel his thumb caress my knee suggestively. His voice sounds low and extremely sexy. "Knowing you, I've lost all hope of even attempting to own you. I'm actually attempting to fuck you."

"Ah, how romantic."

For the second time today, a hand creeps up my skirt.

"My charm knows no bounds."

"How nice, it's just like your ego." I counter without even thinking.

I can see Carmine glancing at us curiously. He bends his head and talks to the redhead beside him. I didn't know her name, but when I see her glance at us, I feel mildly alarmed. Fuck. Were we being obvious?

Sebastian chuckles and I know that everything is okay again. It is like when Sebastian is looking at me like that, it'll all work out. I think I was just being too paranoid… right? I don't care. Forget it. He makes it better. Sometimes it's that easy. I dismiss Carmine and the redhead from my thoughts. It's probably nothing.

"Come on, I want to bring you somewhere."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's likely that you'll fuck me and we might get caught."

"I won't."

"Fuck me or get caught?"

"Both."

"Promise…?"

He grins. "Promise."

He stands up. I notice absentmindedly that his uniform is still immaculately clean and kept. I move my scrutiny upward to his broad shoulders, his clean-shaven jaw, and his smiling blue eyes… Like before. Only not like before… Because maybe there was something different with him.

"Don't you trust me?" Even though his arms are hanging loosely I can see his right hand hold out as though he wanted to take my wrist. He didn't. He won't. He's good at this. We both are.

"That's a question I'm not sure I can answer."

---

"Sebastian, I can't believe I let you take me here."

'Here' is his infamous spot at the back of the library where he brings his flavor of the week when he was bored and horny. My nose itches from the thin layer of dust covering the shelves but I took solace in them. At least it meant nobody came here.

"You're treating me like I'm just one of those common whores you date—"

He pulls me sharply and I topple against him mid-sentence. His arms support my weight and before I can curse at him, he starts kissing my neck. He does know how to shut me up.

"Not… here…" I whisper, shaking my head. My lower body indicates otherwise. My hand reaches behind my back and I fondle his cock, smiling to myself when I feel it harden. He hisses against my skin and I feel the tip of his tongue reach out as if to taste me.

"You promised you wouldn't fuck me here."

His other hand begins to gently toy with my breast and I squirm in a lame effort to escape. Then again, who the hell was I kidding? Who wanted to escape at that point?

"Sebastian…"

He's touching my inner thighs. I cover my mouth to keep from being too loud, but he's making it extremely difficult for me. His fingers weave their magic and pretty soon they are inside of me.

"Fucking for me usually involves my cock in your cunt, my darling sister." He murmurs, squeezing my left breast. I gasp. I shut my eyes. I'm gyrating against his hand, riding it like I was going to jump out of my skin. "Am I not a very good boy for following the rules?"

"Ye…Yes… God yesss…"

My hand rubs him through his pants like crazy until he tweaks my clit. A little pinch. His fingers feel smooth. _Yes_! I feel my neck strain when his mouth seeks out mine and he kisses me. I love his mouth and the wonderful things it can do.

"Come for me, my little kitten." He purrs seductively, punctuating his words with another kiss.

I jerk. I shake. I want to scream and tear his clothes off. I wanted to have my way with him in front of the entire school. Yes, I'm fucking my brother. It feels damn good. I want everybody to know that I love having sex with him and that if I'm reading him correctly, he loves having sex with me too.

My hand leaves his crotch because I can't concentrate. I tremble and spasm in his arms while he holds me securely. It is the most unbelievable feeling in the world and I want to keep having orgasms for the rest of my fucking life.

_Yes! Fuck yes!_

But I don't really curse. I don't really moan. My mouth opens but nothing comes out except hot air. The aftershocks still linger but soon I am limp and my bones seem to have melted. If Sebastian let go of me I would have been on the floor.

He doesn't. He wouldn't.

"Oh. My. God."

He kisses my cheek, smiling angelically. "I thought you could use that, you seemed a little tense."

"What would I do without you?"

"Become a nun? Promote world peace? Enter the porn industry? The possibilities are endless." He lets me stay with him for a while. He puts out his handkerchief to help me clean up. "Be glad the cabbie wasn't driving as fast as everybody else thought otherwise I'd be in heaven screwing all the good looking angels."

I look at him, "How can you joke about that?"

"What else can I do? Secretly plot my revenge against you? No, sis. That would be how _you_ work."

"And you're the kind of guy who just lets grudges go." I wipe myself quickly while he helps me tuck my blouse in. I stand up, my legs have regained their function. Sebastian adjusts his pants. He's still hard. I can see the mild discomfort on his face but he doesn't push for me to get him off.

"Not really, no. Somehow there's really something about those cute green eyes of yours that make my knees melt."

"Ew."

He laughs and in some distant place the bell rings. It is muffled by the unused books and my desire to stay there.

"With lines like that, how on earth did you manage to bed all those girls?"

"I think it's my good looks and my personality… But then again, I could really care less."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. There's really only one person I want to fuck, at least at the moment."

"Let me guess… Is it…" I point to myself, frowning. "your sweet, mild mannered stepsister?"

"Sweet and mild mannered? Do you have another sister?"

I roll my eyes and plant one last kiss on his mouth, "I'd love to stay and continue this charming banter but I have a class and so do you."

"You go. I'm skipping mine, I'm hard and horny and going to class with a tent in my pants isn't the best idea."

"Want me to help?"

"Very, very tempting but I know you have a test in Physics and that you'd kill me if I made you miss it." He pulls his pants up a little as he sits down and gets settled. He bends his left knee and rests his arm on it, grinning ruefully. "I'll just see you later. We can ride home together."

He says it so casually. Ride home together.

"I have to go meet the Vanderbilts. Mother's coming home and she wants me to help organize a fundraiser."

"Vanderbilt? As in, Jock Strap's parents?"

"Yes. I don't know if Adrian will be there but if he tries to fuck me, I will do my very best to resist. If, however, he catches me in the mood and he nibbles on the proper spots, then I'm sorry but it's highly possible I'll fuck him."

"Whore."

"Mmm thank you, I love you too."

His eyes widen.

"Not what I meant."

"I know. I'll see you when you get home."

"Of course you will, non boyfriend."

I leave smiling.

---

The Vanderbilts are incorrigible, arrogant pricks who want me to handle every fucking thing. As if I didn't have enough to handle already! With finals and college around the corner, they want me to do Mimi Wexler's job just because the saggy whore got another boob job. I should not have to put up with this. This is Mother's job.

I slam the door furiously, my heels clacking as I stride up the stairs. My feet hurt like fuck, I had to put up with Adrian and his father's constant flirtation and leering glances, and I have a fucking headache. I hate everyone.

Slam!

"Adrian and his dad want to fuck me." I whine to a surprised Sebastian. He had been seated on the couch watching what looked like an old European movie. "I had the worst afternoon. My feet feel like they've been ran over, Mother wants me to help organize this stupid charity function, finals are coming, and I just spent hours feeling naked while my ex boyfriend and his perverted father stared at my breasts. The only one who didn't look was Mrs. Vanderbilt, but even she's fucking insane. She's making me do so many things."

"Anything I can do to?" He offers, taking off his eyeglasses. He tries to stand up but I stop him, helping myself to his wide array of alcoholic drinks. I pour myself some bourbon and take my shoes off, neatly placing them beside his bed. The sound of ice clinking reminds me of Conner and the drinks he used to make me.

"Unless you have some sort of cloning machine, I'm afraid there's really nothing." I sigh, sitting beside him. My feet seemed to pulsate with a life of their own. "What're you watching? Vintage porn? Oooh are you jerking off to some actress who's old enough to be your grandmother?"

He grabs my feet and I close my eyes, leaning my head back. He massages them. He makes everything better. Just a little. I scrutinize the woman on the screen. She had the kind of hair I would have wanted if I were born a blonde. It was light and thick, yet it seemed soft. It framed her face perfectly, and her pink mouth was open since she was in the midst of speaking. There were subtitles at the bottom.

I look at her sad blue eyes. I knew her… Blaine's a fan of old movies. She was a famous actress who mostly did foreign films until she died. I don't remember the details though, but Blaine adored her. He used to be obsessed with her but he couldn't find any real information about the actress until he just gave up. What was her name? Rebecca something. "What is this, Valmont? Are you watching a chick flick?"

He puts my feet down and doesn't say anything. He just watches the screen for a long time. I poke his arm. It extends and he pulls me against him. The lights from the television illuminated his handsome face.

"That's my mother." He says quietly. "Rebecca Riley."

I don't talk for a while. I was stunned.

"Blaine would wet his panties if he realized you were related to her. I think the reason why he dyed his hair blond was because he wanted to be more like her, if that makes any sense."

"Nobody knows."

"Why not?"

"Just because." He presses the Play button and I feel his thumb caressing my shoulder while he watched.

I watch for a while but my attention is diverted back to him. Rebecca Riley is beautiful and charming, that much I can see even though she's playing a role. Sebastian Riley Valmont, however, holds my fascination more. SRV. His face is completely relaxed. I had never seen him like that.

"You told me about her… Why?"

He shrugs. "Just because."

I take a sip of my drink and place it down. I watch with him. I look at his mother and then back at him. Onscreen she stands in the streets of Paris, dressed in a black dress with a pair of large eyeglasses. She's holding hands with a man. They're speaking in French. They're breaking up. No, wait. She's leaving him. He begs her not to, but she's adamant on going back. He tries to hold on to her but she slips out of his grasp. He loses her in a crowd. A sad song plays, but she's smiling. She's waving at the screen with a big smile on her face.

I feel Sebastian's body go slack. He's fallen asleep. I remove the remote from his hand and place it on the table. I take his eyeglasses and return it inside its case. I lean close and nudge his cheek with my forehead.

"Sebastian,"

He moans in reply.

"I can't carry you. You have to wake up if you don't want to get up tomorrow with a stiff back."

His eyelids flutter sleepily and he looks up at me. The now blue screen makes his eyes even bluer.

He takes my hand and kisses it.

"Okay." He nods, "Goodnight, Kathryn."

"Goodnight, big brother."

He moves sluggishly as sleep quickly regains control of his body. His body lands on the bed and he turns on his side, watching me go.

"Do you want to spend the night here?" He asks me politely as though I hadn't spent hours fucking him all the other times we saw each other.

"I have to go get changed."

"Alright." He yawns, patting the pillow beside him. He creates a sizable dent in the middle. He knows I didn't like his pillows because it was too fluffy and it hurt my neck. "Will you come back? If not, please lock the door."

"I'll come back."

He smiles, rubbing his eyes. "Okay. Hurry back."

I turn and leave his room, taking a long bath to relax my stiff muscles. When I come back to Sebastian's bed, he is already fast asleep. The lights were turned off, but I knew my way around. I slip into bed with him and pull the covers up to my waist. I close my eyes.

"Kathryn." I hear him talk quietly.

"What?"

"Did you really love Conner?"

Huh? I open my eyes, blinking in the dark.

"Excuse me?"

"Conner. Did you really love him?"

"I don't know. I think so. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn't."

"If Conner left Alana and he came back to you right now, what would you do? What if he came to New York again?"

"Sebastian, why are you asking me this?"

"I don't know. We never talked about what happened." He replies quietly.

"Do we have to?"

"No."

"Good."

He is silent for a while.

"Do you think it's possible to want to have two people? Not just sexually, but really, really want them."

"I created this man in my head when I was with Conner. Half of you and half of him. Maybe I do know what you're talking about."

"I understand what you mean… I do that too, putting people together and hoping they were one person." He remains quiet. "Wait, you thought about me when you were with him?"

"Yes."

"Did you think of me when you were fucking him?"

"No. Never. Conner deserved more."

"When I was with Annette sometimes I thought of you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You naughty boy."

"Selena's the girl in the photo you saw." He replies suddenly. "She was the one I talked about back in Blaine's party, when we had a fight."

I hear him yawn. He's bordering on sleep now.

"Where is she now?"

"She's gone." He places his hand on my stomach and I feel his head move closer to mine. His mouth dispels warm air that hits my cheek. "Gone." He whispers as an afterthought, as though telling not only me, but himself as well.

"Is she dead?"

"No." He kisses my mouth.

"Do you miss her?"

"All the time."

"What would you do if she comes back?"

"I used to think I knew what I'd do... it seemed so easy then. Now, I really don't know." He answers, his voice subdued by weariness.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing and something. I'm sorry I'm being extremely fucked up, let's not fight over this right now. I'd like to sleep with you on my bed and wake up with you the morning after."

"Why are you being so nice to me tonight?"

"Because I want to be nice to you and to take care of you. I want to make you happy all the time. Is that really so bad?"

"Did you just take something?" I resist his attempt to kiss me again. He doesn't smell like alcohol, so maybe it was something he took. "Have you been smoking Blaine's pot again?"

"No. I'm just being me.," he continues, ignoring my questions. His hand creeps down to my panties and he starts playing with the moistened slit of my sex through the fabric. "Your enemy and your friend, everything and nothing to you. Do you understand? Why do you have to ask me questions about her? It doesn't matter. I'm here. I'm with you. Can't that be enough?"

His middle finger enters me and I reach for his cock.

"Answer me." He demands in an urgent, deep voice. I feel his lips on my breasts.

"I don't know what to say." I fist his hair and stroke his erection, hoping to silence him. "Can't we just fuck and forget everything else?"

"I don't know, Kathryn. Don't you want more?"

One finger becomes two. I gasp. I squeeze him without meaning to. He starts panting.

"Yes. I want more."

---

I take Selena's photo from his drawer while he sleeps. I plan to make a copy of it.

I do want more.

* * *

Sorry, no time to reply to everybody except a big THANKS for the well wishers. ☺ 

Erika: Lol I know I strive to make moments like that with the proper balance to keep them in character as much as I can. Thank you for wishing me luck, I'll need it!

Celeste: You won't miss Conner for very long he's coming back… Hahaha

Rawrximaxdinosaur: Of course I have bad things planned for them. There's going to be a lot of angst when things start fucking up.:D

Alright, so here's what's going on next chapter:

There is at last concrete proof of the elusive Selena. Just a very, very small piece. Of course, we all know it had to happen. Yes, trouble starts brewing and being a couple/or as they might like to call it, being fuck buddies who obviously are quite more than fuck buddies isn't as easy as it would have appeared to be. Sebastian says something that's going to make people go aww and Kathryn's going to do something that'll advance the plot. No, she won't say something that'll also make people go aww. She's Kathryn, for crying out loud. However, she's going to do something that might make people go 'omg' but then again maybe it's just me. As much as I would've enjoyed writing them in their blissful honeymoon stage, we have to keep the story moving. Wouldn't you be bored if we all wallowed in the syrupy sweet pool of their couple status for the next three chapters?


	24. Vicesimus Tertius

_In the trains and on the runway,_

_ In factories and schools,_

_ From the safety of your long arms,_

_ I reach endlessly from here._

_ Our fingerprints are everywhere._

-Vega4

For the past few weeks (though not always), this is what you would have most likely seen:

Me going out with my stepbrother. Our distance was respectable and if we were affectionate, it always bordered on familial affection. We would get into arguments, don't get me wrong. Sometimes it could be about a trivial thing. Sometimes it could be about me whining how my feet hurt from all the walking and sometimes it could be him scowling because I happened to 'flirt' with an ex boyfriend. To be fair sometimes I gave him a hard time for the same reason, since we all know that Sebastian had always been an incorrigible flirt. If we ever ran into people, they would just smile and think how wonderful it was that we, as siblings, were so close.

Of course, they didn't know how _close_ we could get.

I didn't think it was a problem at all. We were careful. We did have sex in risky places, like when we were at the opera or if we were in the limo. Well, what else would you have expected from us?

If you opened my room at around ten in the afternoon, this is what you'll see:

Legs entangled, a slightly hairy one (his of course) and pale slim smooth legs (undoubtedly mine). His left leg underneath my right, and then his other leg placed comfortably on a pillow while my other left was bent upwards. Our bodies were nestled against each other comfortably. Intimately, the way two people who knew each other physically and otherwise are positioned. He was deeply engrossed in his book while I was busy staring up the ceiling. His journal was placed on his bedside and I had long since given up attempts to get it (at least for now) because it resorted to him kissing me and I was pretty tired to do anything at the moment.

"Sebastian?"

He turns a page and then looks at me.

"Is Selena there?" I ask, nodding towards the journal.

He hesitates.

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

"Kathryn, why do you have to know everything about me?"

"I'm not asking for everything. I just want to know about her."

He places his book down and glances at me.

"Not today, okay?"

I pout. His expression doesn't change. I glare. It still remains constant.

"Is she going to steal you from me the way I stole you from Annette?"

His face breaks into an amused smile. "I wasn't aware of that, Kathryn. Really? You stole me from Annette? I thought it was because I found her in bed getting fucked?"

The laughter dies and my curiosity rekindles the flame. "Really?"

"Mhmm." His finger begins tracing circles on my stomach. I squirm, but then I don't. I'm starting to get used to it. It's even comforting now.

"Did you cry and throw a tantrum after she screwed you over?"

"No, little sister. Again, you're mistaking what I would do for something you would. You see, I'm a very civilized man. We simply talked things over and decided that it would be a waste of time to continue the relationship."

"How proper. Did you have tea and crumpets afterwards?" I mock him, trying to grab his arm when he starts trying to find my elusive ticklish spot. "Don't!"

"Don't what?" He lowers his head to my neck. I feel his warm mouth part and he starts kissing me there. The tickling ceased. It was followed by his hand caressing my inner thigh.

"Don't stop." I impatiently push his hand upwards, where his delightful fingers begin to do what it did best. "Oh, fuck…"

"Okay," He murmurs, grinning cheekily when his lips close around my nipple (Oh, fuckfuckfuck…) "we'll fuck if you want."

"Of course I ah…"

"You… what?" He starts sucking. Licking. Nibbling. I want to stay with him for a very long time.

_Of course I want it!_

"Right… there!" I gasp and he pulls his fingers out. He places them in his mouth, sucking. Tasting me. Eating me little by little. Consuming me… don't stop. Please don't stop. It is the sexiest thing I have ever seen.

"How is it?" I can't stop looking at his mouth. My normal voice seemed to have taken a vacation from me.

His eyes burn now. Intense and aroused, he kisses me. His tongue enters my mouth. I suck it. There is the faintest taste of myself. Like he's consumed me and now I'm consuming myself along with him. He pulls away. I want more. I want him more.

"Good." He whispers, his other hand caresses my face. "Fucking great."

"You better think that." I run my hands through his hair, grinding myself against his hardening cock. He groans his appreciation.

"Fuck me."

"With pleasure."

He drives into me quickly. I yelp and then the sensation quickly overpowers me. I cannot think coherently. I grab a hold of his shoulders and our eyes meet while he rocks against me. I'm meeting him halfway. In and out. I shut my eyes.

"Open them." He says. I follow.

He's looking at me. Entering and leaving so slowly it was both agonizing and exquisite. Our eyes meet.

"I could love you." He tells me quietly.

He winces when my nails dig deeper into him.

He goes in deeper and I breathe in sharply. I tilt my head back. I bask everything in. His words. His movements. His presence.

"Sebastian, I—"

"Wait." He grins, holding up a hand. "I have a surprise for you."

He stands up and pulls on his boxers, leaving. As he does, he places his journal inside a drawer and in his haste fails to close it. Bad move. I may be his non-girlfriend but I was still Kathryn. There was a letter underneath the journal. There was no address. Only his name written in a neat penmanship. The only clue I had as to whom the letter was from were the initials on the top left where the sender's name would have been. S.W. Selena? Selena W.?

His words ring in my head. _Can't that be enough?_

If I take it he'll know. He might grow angry with me. But then he might not know, and I could get an idea of who this girl was before he even realizes it was missing. It's a risk. A gamble. Taking it might mean changing him and how things have been going lately, but not taking it might mean that I'm going to obsess about it.

Lose him. Lose myself.

Which one?

In the end, I snatch it and hide it along with my clothes. I walk quickly to the door and I manage to hide it under my pillows before he returns.

"Surprise." He holds a large box, looking pleased with himself.

I smile in spite of myself, trying to get it only for Sebastian to take it out of my reach.

"Tsktsk, of course, there's still a matter to be attended to before you get this."

"Sebastian!" I whine, crossing my arms. "Come on!"

"What? This box is yours if you answer one question."

"No, I'm not telling you how many men I've slept with. Stop asking me that!"

"I've given up trying to get your number, Kathryn. I'm sure it's going to be a lot easier if I counted hundreds instead of ones and tens."

"Give me!" I pout, poking his bare chest. He takes a step back, chuckling at my impatience. I pinch the flesh of his ribs, causing him to yelp.

"Sadist!" He growls, holding the box behind his back as his other arm goes around my waist. He kisses the top of my head and I wriggle free. "It's just a question!"

"Fine." I roll my eyes, looking at him expectantly. "Before you ask me, let me tell you that I will never answer whether or not I actually liked sleeping with Blaine when we were younger."

"You slept with Blaine? God, Kathryn. Seriously, whom haven't you slept with? Did you diddle Mai Lee too?"

"You're the one to talk. I caught you checking her ass out the other day."

"Don't be gross."

"Don't be an asshole and give me the box."

"Don't be impatient and answer my question."

"Which is?"

"Will you go to prom with me?

"Well, who else will I go with?" I look at him oddly, "Of course I'm going with you. I'll just have to find a fake date and you'll also have to hit on a few girls but—"

He kisses me again before he hands me the box. I open it. Inside is the most breathtaking dress I had ever seen, and I realize that the dress was made by Dégat.

"Sebastian!" I give an excited squeal and he groans as I push him into his bedroom.

"Ouch."

I take a moment to place the box on his table before he pulls me to his bed.

"How did you get it?"

"I told you. I know him."

"How?"

"I just do, okay?" He smiles to himself, holding my hips while I straddle him. "It's so fucking crazy."

"What is?"

"This. Everything's going well."

---

I opened the following letter later on that night:

_Sebastian,_

_I don't have enough time to write everything I really want to say. Please just know this:_

_I hate leaving you. I never wanted it to happen, please believe me when I say that. I hate that I'm here. I hate that we can't live together, the way you said we would when we grew up. Well, aren't we? Aren't we grown up already?_

_Selena_  
---

"Blaine, I want to know who the fuck this girl is."

"What? No, 'Hello Blaine, it's good to see you again.'?"

I glare at him, "Hello, Blaine. It's good to see you again. I want to know who the fuck this girl is."

He looks at the photograph and squints before whistling. "She's gorgeous."

"She's a bitch."

"Oh?" He leads me to his bedroom, where a computer is situated. "Come to my office then, darling. We'll have a snort and discuss the hot girl your stepbrother's banging."

"He is not banging her!"

"Oooh PMS-ing, are we?"

"Sorry." I mutter, "I'm just starting to get really annoyed by this Selena person. She's ruining my relationship and I don't even know her. It's like she's this goddamn ghost for fuck's sake. She gets into my head even though I don't even know where the hell she is!"

"Did you just say she's ruining your relationship?" Blaine scratches his head, although his eyes are filled with humor. "And we're talking about the general definition of a relationship here, wherein there are two people who are mutually bound to each other, who go out, make out, have sex, and then eventually say that they loooove each other?"

"Fuck you. Just find her."

"Kathryn, I don't even know her last name. If I looked for a Selena W., it would take me years to sort through this… she does look familiar though. I don't know where I've seen her before, but I'm pretty sure I have. What does this have to do with Sebastian?"

"Do you think I know that? That's why I'm so fucking annoyed."

"Well, here's a suggestion that's sure to save you time and money… how about… you ask your delectable boyfriend?"

"He is not my—"

"Oh, sorry. What I meant was, go ask your _non boyfriend_. That's your endearing pet name for him these days, yes?"

"I can't."

"Why not?

"Because we always fight over that."

"And…?"

"And things have been going well."

"So…?"

"So maybe you should stop playing Dr. fucking Phil and just get me the information."

"Huffy, huffy." He quips, grinning. "You're so into him."

"I'm so going to cut your balls off if you don't stop with that."

"Alright, I'll just call you if I get anything."

I place a wad of bills on his table and smile. "Don't tell Sebastian."

"Do you think I want to get caught between your Dawson's Creek drama?"

"Screw you."

"Tell the non boyfriend hello for me?"

"Give it up, Blaine. He's not turning gay anytime soon."

"It's fine, I have Greg to keep me company. Good day, darling Kathryn." He blows me an air kiss, "I'll be in touch."

---

Something's wrong.

I realize it the moment I get home.

I'm sure of it the moment I see Sebastian standing in the sitting room as though he was waiting for me. His normal grin was replaced by an ill look.

"Seb, what's wrong?"

He just looks at me. His blue eyes seem vacant and it's starting to worry me.

"Sebastian." I say this sharply, coming closer. "What happened?"

"Let's leave." He says suddenly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhales heavily. "Right now, let's just leave."

"We can't just leave—"

"Not forever… just for a couple of days... we can skip school for a while. It doesn't matter anymore, we're graduating. We could go to Aunt Helen's house. She's in Italy for the year, we can stay there. Just you and me, Kathryn. Can we just go?"

"Why?"

"I uh… I can't be here right now."

"Hey…" I do something unthinkable. I slip my hand into his and I squeeze it, "tell me what's wrong."

"It's not important, do you want to leave with me? It'll be okay, I promise. I know you have that thing with the Vanderbilts but I want you to go with me, so will you? Kathryn? Will you please go with me?"

"Who are you running from?"

"Why do you have to ask me questions all the fucking time?" He stomps off, and I follow him.

"Why do you have to be such a prick?" I yell after him, "God, you are fucking impossible sometimes! You're like a goddamn puzzle, Sebastian! You talk in riddles and you won't tell me anything! You want to leave? Fine! You can forget about taking me with you! I don't want to spend the weekend with you if you're going to be like that!"

He tries to slam the door but I kick it back. He grabs a bag and starts stuffing his clothes in.

"Sebastian, god damn you I don't want you when you're this insane!"

He doesn't reply. He goes to the bathroom and gets his toiletries.

"The same thing's happening with us the way it's happened with Annette. If you keep doing this to me, one day you're going to find me fucking someone else."

The sounds stop.

"I mean it, Sebastian."

"Come with me." He steps out and crosses the room with ease. He touches my face and looks at me, caressing my cheekbones. "Please. Just for a few days… you said it once, right? Can't we just fuck and forget everything?"

He sounds so desperate. So lost and sad that my anger ebbed.

"Alright." I tell him quietly, lost in his pleading gaze. "We'll go."

---

Halfway there, he pulls over. It is almost dark now, and I was in a cranky mood. Whatever generous and kindhearted disposition I had earlier was gone.

"Sebastian, I'm going to kill you if you try to fuck me in the middle of nowhere."

I hear him laugh. The lights from the dashboard illuminate his face.

"Kathryn, just… thank you."

"For what?"

"For not pushing it… it's just… I know I've been a little crazy. Thank you. Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that what I said remains true. You do make me really happy."

I don't reply. I couldn't think of anything to say. He starts the engine again and we drive the rest of the way in silence. His hand finds mine and I let him take it.

* * *

A/N: Enjoy it, things start falling apart soon. I'll quit telling you guys about the next chapter. I always end up changing it anyway. Just do me a favor and press that review button right about now, go on. Do it. Click. Type. Submit. Make me tell you what happens next.  



	25. Vicesimus Quartus

_Fingers tracking tracks on my face  
Uncover the cracks in me._

_You said that's where light shines through us.  
Kiss my mouth, I'll believe._

_You're tearing me apart. It's beautiful, it's beautiful_

-Vega4

Bodies on top of each other. Sebastian underneath, lying vertically, and I'm on top of him horizontally, torso resting on his stomach while he brushes his fingers against my ribs. I'm half dangling off the plastic recliner but it feels good on my lower back.

Upside down world, where everything seems right.

"Favorite swear word?"

"Fuck." I immediately say, pulling myself up to grin cheekily. "You?"

He purses his mouth, pretending to think. "Tough call. It's a close one between fuck and pussy."

"Oh, just say you like both."

"Do I?" He asks nonchalantly, slipping his hand underneath my bikini. His hand rests on my mound for a while before I feel his finger wiggling. "Let me check."

"Not here! Someone might see!" I retaliate by grinding myself against him. He groans out loud and crushes me against him.

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Where's your sense of decency? Someone could be watching us right now!"

"Then they'd get quite a show." He grins, his dimple creasing his cheek. Handsome Sebastian, mine for the taking.

"You're insatiable."

"You're irresistible."

"You're cheesy."

"You're falling for it anyway."

"The only thing that's going to fall is you… on your ass when I push you off."

"Really…?"

"Really."

He suddenly stands up, carrying me with him. Before I know it, his arms are outstretched and he's holding me just above the pool. I curse and scramble to get off him but he holds me farther out.

"Sebastian, I'm going to kill you if you…!"

He lets go.

The cold water makes me shriek and he stands there laughing at me. No, laughing isn't the right word. The asshole was guffawing at the angry look on my face.

"I told you not to throw me in!"

"Kathryn, just because we're together now doesn't mean I'm going to be all gallant and noble. Please. You know me better than that."

"Get in here now before I pull you in."

He backs away, grinning. "No thank you."

"Sebastian…" I reach behind and pull the knot free, enjoying his smile disappear when I dangle my bikini top in front of him. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want to get in?"

"Quite sure, yes."

"No sex until we graduate! Get in here now! It's not fucking fair, if I'm all wet then you should be too!"

"Hmm… no thanks." He leans back, putting on his sunglasses. The smug bastard.

I narrow my eyes and hurriedly put my top back on, swimming gracefully to the ladder so I can pull myself up.

"Don't get water all over me." He calls out, trying not to laugh.

"Screw you." I sit on top of him, making sure he gets wet anyway. "You're being such a prick to me."

"Aww, are you pouting again?" He wipes the water from his eyes, squinting at me. "How cute."

I make a face. "Not 'cute'. I'm not fucking 'cute'."

He licks his lips, staring at me. "Tell me what you are."

"I am…" I lower myself on to him, getting the idea. I nibble his ear, flicking my tongue over his ear lobe. His breathing starts to go faster, and his fingers dance across my back. "Sublime."

"Mhmm…"

I slip my fingers under his head, grasping his hair. I kiss my way to his mouth, pausing to linger a few inches from it as I continue. "Gorgeous."

"I think so too." He licks my lower lip, smiling.

"I am…" I lick my palm and slip it underneath his shorts. He exhales a little before panting.

"You're what?"

"Horny."

"How horny?"

"Very, very horny." I stroke his cock, enjoying how his features contorted. My darling puppet. Up and down. Blue eyes shut. Open. Narrowed two circles of ocean. "Would you care to make it all better?"

"I think I would be… oh fuck… willing."

"Good." I withdraw my hand and smile at his erection. "Let's take this to bed, big brother."

He carries me, holding me securely. We head back to the house and I feel lighter than I'd ever been.

"Don't drop me."

"I won't." He replies solemnly.

---

Night time.

He's just staring. There's nothing in that gaze except the fact that he's observing me.

"I told you, I can't go another round Sebastian." I yawn, rubbing my eyes. "I'm tired and it's cold."

Peach mouth blooming into a smile.

"I'm a different version when I'm with you."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing." He kisses me – really kisses me – and then I hesitantly respond.

"This is real." He replies against my hair, his voice nearly a whisper. "Right now. I'm telling the truth."

"Okay. Seriously, are you taking anything and if yes, can I have some?"

"I'll come back." He promises, and immediately I sense the tone of his voice. Wistful as he touches my stomach, urgent as he holds on tighter.

"Are you leaving?"

He pauses and then nods. I pull away. Tense. Ready to strike.

"When?"

He looks at his hands. "Soon. Just for a week, I've already spoken with the dean."

"Why?"

"To sort things out."

"What the fuck is there to sort out?"

"Kathryn, can we not fight right now? Please?"

"To hell with that!" My voice rises, taking my temper along with it. "I've been fucking patient with you, Valmont. You know that, you know that this is fucking different for me. The least you could do is give me a fucking break and tell me what the hell is going on with your life! I think I have a right to know!"

He watches me solemnly for a few minutes, remaining quiet.

"Sebastian, you still don't trust me?"

"Please, Kathryn… please can we just drop this?"

"How the fuck can you expect me to drop this when you're the one who started in the first place? How the fuck do you expect me to react? Am I supposed to smile and give you a fucking hug, wish you well and kiss you goodbye? Am I supposed to fucking keep quiet about this?? Am I supposed to fucking accept the fact that you're shutting me out? Am I supposed to fucking accept that you're leaving me and I don't know where you're going?"

"No."

"Then tell me what the fuck you want! Jesus, Sebastian! Why the hell are we here in the first place? Is this some last fuck session for you?"

"I'm coming back!"

"Well maybe I don't want you back!"

He looks stunned, then hurt. "You don't mean that."

"Oh, fuck you. Go fuck yourself." I yank the robe off the chair and wrap it around myself, leaving him.

---

I glance at the door before angrily punching Blaine's number on the phone. Sorry if I break it, Aunt Helen.

"Blaine, I need Annette's number."

"Fuck, Kathryn. You called in the middle of the fucking night to ask me for her number? Seriously?"

"I need to talk to her!"

"But I don't want to wake Greg up…"

"Now!"

"Alright, alright." He recognizes my anger immediately and I hear McConnell mumbling. They talk for a moment and I wonder if Blaine's getting serious with Jock Head. "You got a pen?"

"Tell me and I'll remember it."

Blaine relays the information and I hang up after the last number. I don't know what time it is in Kansas right now and I don't really care.

Ring.

"H…hello?"

"Annette?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Kathryn."

There is a pause.

"Kathryn Merteuil, Sebastian's stepsister."

"I know who you are." She sounds bewildered and sleepy. I hope I did wake her up. She still annoys me.

"Listen, did you ever find out where Sebastian's been going to for two weeks when you were together?"

"Huh?"

"Annette, we both know we don't want to talk to each other, so if you wouldn't mind, please don't make me repeat my question. Did you fuck him over because he was with someone else?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"It doesn't matter. I need to know. Did you ever find out?"

"He…" Her voice trails off and I press the phone harder against my ear. I pull my knees to my chin, staring at the dimly lit lamp. "he came home one night, smelling like someone else. Flowers. Something light… I thought he was drunk at first, and I asked him where he was but he wouldn't say… we uh… we were going to do it but then he just stopped. He just looked at me and said he didn't know what to do. He said, 'I can't change for you.', then we had a fight… he left. He said 'She's coming back soon… I'm sorry. I never did anything…' and I went to Trevor after that. Sebastian caught me and we broke up."

"She's coming back?" I repeat faintly, "Who? Who is?"

But then maybe I didn't have to ask who it was. I think I already know who.

"I never found out and we never talked about it afterwards." Annette yawns, "Kathryn, why are we talking about this? Are you… are you and Sebastian…?"

"No." I cut her off. "No, nothing's going on. Thank you and goodbye."

I hang up before she can reply. Just in time. Sebastian starts knocking and I open the door. Blond blue eyed brother, seeking for my forgiveness the way I'm looking for the truth. No, it isn't enough. He's freaking out because she's coming back. That much I know now. Let Selena come back. I've been dying to fuck her up.

"Kathryn…"

"Forget it." I shake my head, walking past him. "Let's just sleep. I don't want to argue anymore, I'm getting tired of it."

He follows me wordlessly and for a while we just walk. He comes closer and eventually places his hand on my waist.

"Kathryn." He murmurs again, and I try not to react to the way his voice sounded when he said my name. He presses me against the wall, his fingers slipping between mine.

I roll my head back, already caught up with him. He slips his hand underneath and runs his fingers down my thighs. I shiver. My body heats up. He licks my neck before kissing it and I suppress a groan. Right there in the middle of the hallway, he pulls down my panties. Instead of worrying whether we were going to get caught, the risky behavior only makes me want it more.

"Sebastian."

Communicating with only our names.

Until:

In my lust-addled mind, I turn around and he rests his neck on the crook of my arm. He simply stares at me.

"Don't ever leave me." I say before I have the time to process it. "Say it. Say you won't. It'll just be us, like always."

He closes his eyes and I wanted to take his tongue and form the words for him.

"Say it." I hate how my voice quavers. "You have to say it. It was never supposed to go this far, but now it has. I need to hear you say it. Promise me or I'll hurt you. I'll hurt her too. You know that I will, Sebastian."

He opens his eyes. "Conner's back in New York."

It isn't exactly what I expected to hear from him but I take a moment to process his response. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know."

"This isn't about Conner."

"I know."

"Don't change the fucking topic."

"I don't want to lie to you."

"That's what you're doing right now."

"Don't make me promise anything, Kathryn."

I turn away and put my panties back on. I hear him sigh. He starts to follow. I slam the door and he opens it again.

"I'm going to yell at you and say something insulting, then you're going to reply with something equally scathing." I help myself to a glass of wine while he stands there quietly. "We're going to sleep in different rooms, but then one of us will go and apologize. In all likelihood, it's going to be you. You're going to slip under the covers with me and I'll let you. We might fuck, or we might just actually sleep. That's how it's going to be, but I'm too tired to take the route tonight. Let's cut through the bullshit right now and instead of saying things we don't mean, I'll say something that I do mean. I wish I never felt this way about you."

He looks at me blankly, before the weight of my words settles on him. He holds out his hand. "Come here."

I shake my head, "Come back."

He holds on to me tightly, kissing my forehead. Tentatively, I hook my arms underneath his, placing my hands on his shoulders. He feels so good to hug, warm and solid.

"It was so easy when all I wanted to do was fuck you." He tells me slowly and I smile.

"I know."

---

"Flowers."

He follows the direction of my finger and frowns. "Those aren't flowers. That's a big rock."

"It is _not_ a big rock. That's only because you lack imagination." I roll my eyes haughtily, pointing insistently at the shadows on the walls near the window. "Can't you see it?"

"What I can't see is why we're creating pictures out of shadows when we could be fucking."

"Sebastian, is it your intention to kill me? I'm still sore."

"But you said I could put it anywhere, remember? The bet? Car accident and cousin fucking aside, I did win."

"I've paid you back so many times you probably owe me now."

He palms my breast gently and I fidget against him.

"See that one? It looks like a piano. The one my grandfather had… I used to play with him. We played Debussy together, and he was the one who taught me. On his fiftieth birthday, I remember wanting to go to him but there was this big formal party and there were so many guests who were talking to him. I was with Mother then, and I thought that maybe he'd forgotten me but then…" I laugh at myself; at the absurdity of my child's mind and the fact that I was actually saying this out loud. "You know what? Forget it, it's a stupid memory."

Sebastian nudges my cheek with his forehead. He smells really nice even if was a bit sweaty earlier. "It's not a stupid memory. I'd like to hear about it."

"Well… I was just seated there and everybody was talking to him, but then the band started to play Claire de Lune, and he went to me with his hand outstretched. I was really little then, around seven or so. He carried me and I remember feeling triumphant because here was a man whom everybody wanted to be with tonight and he was dancing with me. It was the first time I ever felt safe with someone. He died when I was fifteen. Sometimes when I'm furious and I need to calm down, I play that song. I think it helps and I don't throw or break things as much."

He jumps off the bed and grins at me widely, his eyes shining. He holds out his hand.

"Um… what are you doing?"

He tugs my arm and I groan, "Come on, stand up. Nobody can see us."

"Sebastian, my back hurts from fucking you. I'm not exactly worried about appearances."

"Please?"

I reluctantly obey and he slips his arm around my waist. I look at him, expecting him to say why he dragged me out of bed but he only smiles furtively.

"Okay… what we doing?"

And then he starts humming near my ear. This unbelievably sappy display should have made me laugh, but it didn't. The deep voice that resonated from his throat made me tingle. Not sexually, although I would have preferred for it to be that way.

He starts moving. Swaying slowly, to give me time to react.

"Sebastian, this is stupid."

"It's not stupid if it means something to you." He leans down and kisses me gently. The mystery of a kiss. I do feel better. "You, Kathryn. Of all people…"

I let him dance with me for a while, and I watch him. The shadows did nothing to obscure his features. If anything, the contrasting of his pale skin and the darkness made him better looking.

Our naked bodies were perfectly at ease, and we weren't conscious about it after all. I can't help it. I start kissing him halfway into his horrible hummed rendition of Debussy's piece. The music stops. Be quiet, you tone deaf young man. Let me kiss you for hours, the way I want to. His hands leave my waist and wander to places you don't usually touch when you're dancing with someone.

"I thought… you were… sore?" He gasps when I stroke his cock.

"Shut up and touch me back."

He grins and we make our way back to the bed. I grasp his skin and claw at it, already deep in the throes of pleasure.

"Don't leave. Don't leave. Don't leave." I mutter, holding him close as I eventually come.

---

I wake up at the shrill sound of my phone ringing. Torn between throwing it across the room and pulling the pillow over my head, I sigh and answer it. The other side's empty. Sebastian's always been an early riser. I rub my eyes and touch the dent his head had left on the pillow before finally answering the phone.

"Blaine, what the fuck?" I snap crankily.

"Kathryn," Blaine's voice sounds excited and I know immediately that he's given Selena W. a proper last name. "you will not fucking believe this—"

"No." I interrupt, watching Sebastian as he comes out of the bathroom looking relaxed. He catches my eye and smiles at me. "Not now. Tell me when I get back."

"What? Seriously? But—"

"I said not now."

"Why not?"

"It's too early to destroy something perfect. Goodbye, I'll see you soon." I close the phone and head to the bathroom, brushing my teeth as Sebastian put on his clothes. When we were both done, I saunter over to him and he automatically kisses me.

"Was that Tuttle?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." He muses, "Did he have bad news?"

"He might."

"Like what?"

"It doesn't matter. I'll take care of it either way."

Sebastian chuckles, brushing back my hair before cupping my jaw.

"Of course you will. Kathryn the evil manipulator comes back. Be careful, sis. I know you're more than capable but I worry about you sometimes."

"You don't have to worry about anything at all."

"Yes, I do." He replies gently, "Sometimes your plans have a way of hurting you in the end."

* * *

A/N: Aww. They're just basking in the glow of their couple status. It _was_ too early to destroy something beautiful, although I'm getting there. Okay, I'll answer the questions you may or may not ask. One, obviously after Sebastian said that Conner's back in town, it means that Conner is indeed back. No, I can't answer as to whether or not he and Kathryn will hook up again but do you think they will? Hmm... Yes, the lovable quirky homosexual will give us an idea who Selena is, or at least give us her last name. Just who is this girl that's been creating all this fuss and distrust between the couple who both say they're just fuck buddies when it's very clear that they're not? Is she... a bitch? Is she like Annette? Or Amanda St. Clair? Gia Griffin? Or is she like that twistedly complex blonde supermodel in the two other stories I wrote earlier? Personally it'd be fun to write her like the last character I mentioned but that would take loads of time. Oh well. We'll see.

Same deal. Click. Type. Submit. Be nice and share the love, or I might forever condemn you to wonder who the fuck the elusive Selena is.


	26. Vicesimus Quintus

_All that I keep thinking throughout this whole flight  
_

_ Is it could take my whole damn life to make this right  
_

_ The splintered mast I'm holding won't save me long  
_

_ Because I know fine well that what I did was wrong_

_The last girl and the last reason to make this last for as long as I could_

_The first kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything_

_The weight of water the way you taught me_

_To look past everything I had ever learned_

_The final word in the final sentence you ever uttered to me was love _

-Snow Patrol

"Hey…"

His gentle hand causes me to rouse from my stupor. I divert my attention from the empty fields and back at Sebastian, who glances at me while he drives. "What?"

"You've been quiet ever since we left." He frowns, looking worried. "Are you alright?"

"I had an affair with Conner."

"Yeah, I know."

"You do?"

"Yes. Don't you remember? Alana came back and he left you."

"No, Sebastian. I meant after that. Remember that day in school when I left in the middle of class to take a phone call and it took me a while to return? I was with him. We fucked in the deserted building that had been under reconstruction then."

He keeps his eyes on the road. He takes his hand from my arm and grips the steering wheel tightly.

"I was against the wall and…"

"I get the idea, Kathryn. You don't need to tell me the details." He replies stiffly, shifting the gear. "That's why you came to the wedding?"

"Yes. Conner and I were together for a while when we were in Spain… he was going to end it with her."

"Why didn't he?"

"After you told me that you remembered what had happened in Colombia, Conner and I talked. We talked for a long time and we both decided to end things."

"Did you fuck him?"

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy it?"

I sigh, "Sebastian, you don't even have the right to be angry. I never had any obligations with you back then."

"Do you regret letting him get married?"

"Sometimes."

"So you're going to fuck him now that you know he's back?"

"I will if you make me do it."

"What the fuck does that mean?" He asks incredulously, slamming his wrist against the car horn with fervor as we approach a slow moving van.

"Will it hurt you if I did?"

"Fuck, Kathryn. What the hell do you think?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's inside your head these days, you tell me. Will it hurt you if I did?"

"Of course it will!" He snaps, overtaking aggressively. "Fucking slow people! Jesus!"

"Then don't make me do it. I will, you know. I don't want to, but I can and I will. Don't ever forget that."

He curses loudly, his voice thick with venom when he is forced to slow down in front of the traffic. His mouth opens and he exhales heavily, placing his hand over his eyes before looking at me. "What are you talking about?"

I stare back evenly, "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Sebastian looks back for a long time and I don't waver.

"I really don't want to, Sebastian. Not after everything that's happened, but I'm still more than capable."

He starts to reply but we are interrupted by the rude car horns that made us both cringe. He quickly resumes driving, flipping off the passing cars who had rudely overtaken us.

"I've had to do a lot of things in my life," I continue, glancing at him. "Things I haven't been proud of. I've had to lie to people I didn't want to lie to, and despite what you may think, I've felt guilt in some of the twisted things that I've done. There are people whose lives I've enjoyed ruining, but then there are people I regret ever involving in my plans. I'm asking you right now not to do something that will make me turn against you because when I do, I can assure you that I will make you suffer."

"I know."

"I was just making sure you understood."

"I do."

"Good."

We lapse back into silence again, with only the radio to fill in the gap between us.

"Hey, Kathryn?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to miss you."

"You better." I retort and he takes my hand and kisses my palm.

The tension dissolves, and yet there was a nagging feeling that gave me an odd urge to ask him to turn the car around. The scenery changes gradually. Passing trees, open fields, even the air smells different.

It was too late to head back.

---

"What a great tan—"

I shush Blaine, placing my purse as I sit down. "Details, please. Let's start with the name."

"Selena Wade." He hands me a photocopy of an old magazine clipping and I scan it briefly. "Only child of Hector and Alice Wade, Mr. Wade is the sole owner of Wade Enterprises, which is a—"

"Million dollar company specializing in properties and stocks, I know. My father deals with them. You're boring me, Blaine."

"Well, it's not my fault she's filthy rich. Mrs. Wade, on the other hand, used to be Alice Weitzman, former supermodel."

"Of course. Rich guy marries long legged model. How typical."

Blaine turns the page for me and I see a photo of the couple. I had imagined Hector Wade to be some old fat guy with a saggy chin but I was severely mistaken. He was handsome, with black hair and gray eyes. Alice Wade had Selena's eyes. Picture fucking perfect. Why am I not surprised?

"Darling Selena inherited half a billion dollars and fifty one percent of the company when she was seven. Her parents died in a car accident. Apparently she was also inside the car but her mom protected her. Very touching."

"Oh, Sebastian's mom did too. Rebecca Riley. Maybe they have some stupid bond over that."

"Okay, hold on. Rebecca Riley is Sebastian's mom?" His eyes light up.

"Yeah. He was watching an old movie the other night and he showed me."

"Kathryn, Rebecca Riley didn't die from a car accident. She had a heart attack."

"But- Sebastian—"

"It was all over the news."

"He lied to me?"

Blaine doesn't reply.

"He lied to me." I repeat faintly. The fucker probably did it to make me feel guilty for the part I played in his accident.

"Anyway, Selena was enrolled at Manchester Prep. She left when she was twelve, I took the liberty of acquiring old yearbooks and…" He opens the red and gold yearbook, flipping through until there was a solo picture of her. Younger, but that's Selena. Selena Wade.

I turn the pages and campus life pictures greet me. There was one of Selena and Sebastian walking. He had an arm around her. He looks happy. "Why did she leave?"

"No idea, but I'm guessing she left the country. There are no records of her in any other school in the US."

"Sebastian did say something about her… they were twelve and he said she was leaving. Anyway, what's the exciting part? You sounded like someone was squeezing your balls when you called me."

"Well," he replies importantly, dropping an old issue of Vogue on my lap. "you're about to hate her more."

"Somehow I don't think it's possible for me to hate her more, but I'll try." I glance warily at him.

"Remember Dégat's collection years ago? The one you said was his absolute best and your most favorite?"

"Yes, so?" I touch the cover of the magazine, "I read this issue when I was in boarding school."

"And that, my dear, is why she seems so familiar." He replies triumphantly, turning pages until we arrive at a story about Benjamin Dégat. "Her mother, the famous supermodel, was his friend, and after being orphaned, Dégat looked after her. She was the inspiration for his designs. Basically, your favorite designer dotes upon her, your favorite Dégat collection was inspired by her, and now your favorite fuckbuddy is apparently very attached to her."

I don't talk for a while, staring at the photograph of Dégat and Selena.

"And now she's back."

"Is she? I'd like to meet her."

"I'd like to kill her."

"You do have to admit that she and Valmont make a very cute couple."

"Fuck you, Blaine." I suddenly feel the need to leave. "Find out why she left and where she went. I want to know everything about her."

"Will do." He promises, sorting through the files. "I'll even do it for free this time, this drama's certainly gotten my attention. I'm sure Sebastian has valid reasons for lying though."

"Yes, and you can also be sure that his actions won't be without consequences."  
---

Once. Twice.

He finally answers. "I take it you've heard I was in the area?"

"Why did I have to hear it from Sebastian, of all people?"

He sighs, "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to cause any trouble."

"I don't think you're going to be the cause this time, but thank you for caring." I hesitate, "Can we meet?"

"Kathryn…"

"I need you."

He doesn't reply for a while.

"Conner, please."

"I have back to back meetings for the next two days and I'm meeting Alana in Virginia later, so I'm pretty busy. Can I call you?"

I'm disappointed. He always put me first. Maybe everybody was changing and I just didn't notice it.

"Fine." I reply detachedly, "Whatever. Have a great time."

"Wait… it's not like that. I really want to see you. I've missed you, Kate."

"It doesn't seem like it."

"Well, I do. I really fucking do… I can't wait to see you in two days. Don't be mad, okay? Do you think I want to spend time with boring businessmen than I do with you?"

"No, but you want to spend time with your wife more than you do with me." I answer in a surprising fit of jealousy.

"She's my wife, Kathryn. We're trying to make it work."

"Trying?"

"Yes." He replies stiffly. "This is hard on us too. I know you have your issues and I want to be there for you but things are different now. I have responsibilities I can't ignore."

"Fine. You don't have to bite my fucking head off. In fact, you don't have to meet me at all."

"Christ, Kathryn. Are we going to argue? Are you just picking fights with random people because Sebastian's doing something wrong? You can't do that. You can't keep demanding like that, you know you're important to me but you have to understand I have a life too."

I was a little hurt, "You've changed."

"We both have. You just haven't realized it yet." Then he pauses again. "Let's not fight, okay? I'll call you when I can, please don't avoid me. I want to see you."

Conner Alfonso Valmont. Soft curly black hair, dark intense eyes. Glowing white skin, full mouth. Lovely to kiss and fuck and hug. He would have never broken me.

"I apologize."

"I do too, Kathryn." He says quietly. Voice deep and soft, like the way he sometimes held me in the past. Like the way he felt when we were on the beach and my grandfather had died. The memory Conner had of us. "I hope you're alright."

I hang up only to receive a call that hits me so hard I can't believe I never saw it coming.

"Hello?"

"Kathryn, this is Hilda, Dean Hargrove's secretary."

"Yes?" The syrupy tone in my own voice makes me cringe. "What can I do for you? Did I forget to file the documentations for the French Club?"

"No, dear. Nothing like that, I was only calling to ask if you would please inform your brother that he passed his finals and that he's eligible to enroll at Princeton for the upcoming school year. I don't understand why Mr. Valmont's in a hurry to graduate early… but he did say he was going to attend the prom." Hilda muses, unaware that I have turned into stone. Cold. Gray. Shocked.

"I'm sorry… are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Mr. Valmont applied for it weeks ago."

"Oh… thank you. I'll be sure to tell him."  
---

Blaine daintily dabs his napkin on the corners of his mouth before lifting his tea (his pinky is also lifted up) to drink. We were in an exclusive restaurant for an early dinner because I didn't want to have to meet the Vanderbilts any longer than I had to. Adrian would probably try to finger me if I went to dinner in his house.

"Guess which certain favorite designer of yours just walked in?" He smiles, his eyes twinkling.

Although I'm not like one of those giggling fans who ogle at celebrities, I can't help but turn around. It was him. Tall, with gray hair and the most sophisticated style in clothing, in the flesh. Benjamin Dégat walks in and he is immediately ushered by the maître d' to a private booth just a few tables from ours.

"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" Blaine inquires, checking the menu to order dessert.

"I might possibly do that. Sebastian said he knows him, and—"

"Well, why don't you go talk to your adorable boyfriend then?" He interrupts, looking behind my shoulder. "He just walked in."

True enough, my stepbrother strolls in. He takes off his sunglasses and immediately spots Dégat, who raises a hand to say hello. Sebastian smiles and makes his way to the booth.

"Well, come on. The boyfriend might score us tickets to fashion week."

"Wait." I take his arm just as he's about to stand up. "He might be planning a surprise for me. He gave me a prom dress by Dégat, maybe he's planning to add a few more accessories…"

"Aww. He's really spoiling you huh? A few more sentimental gestures and I might have to throw up."

"Shut up." I roll my eyes, smiling nonetheless.

Blaine starts to smile back but then something makes his face cloud over. His smile disappears. He frowns, looking behind me.

"Kathryn," he says slowly, still looking away. "I think Selena just entered the restaurant."

My blood runs cold and I turn around and stare at her. Glamorous, beautiful poreless Selena with soft black hair and green eyes. Both Dégat and Sebastian stand up and she immediately smiles. When she smiles a lot of men turn around to stare. She's so fucking beautiful I wanted to destroy her right then and there.

She goes to their table and kisses Dégat's cheek before turning her attention to Sebastian. He stares at her and leans closer to ask her something. She nods and flashes another grin, nodding when he starts to reply. She holds his hands when he touches her face, and when he kisses her I wanted to break something. It wasn't an ordinary kiss, it isn't something to be polite.

"Holy shit." Blaine gasps and I pull out my cell phone, seeing red and black.

I call Sebastian.

"Hello?" He answers quickly, looking at Selena when she squeezes his arm.

"Hey, non boyfriend." I try my best to keep my tone light even though I am itching to scream at him.

"Hey."

"So guess what?"

"What, Kathryn?"

"I've been thinking…"

"About what?"

"Well, since it's your last day before you go off to who knows where… I could cancel my Vanderbilt dinner and we could do something naughty. In fact, I could meet you right now. Where are you?"

There's a pause that makes me sick to my stomach. _Answer me, you fucker. Tell me the truth before I kill you._

"I can't right now."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm out getting you something expensive and shiny."

…and there you have it. A lie. Why do people lie? Because they're guilty of something. What was he guilty of?

Did it matter?

"Oh… okay. I'll see you tonight then?"

"I can't wait." He replies, hanging up before giving me a chance to reply.

Blaine casts me a sympathetic look and I glare at him.

"Say something queer and I'm going to stab you."

"Princess, Valmont's a friend of mine but I just wanted you to know that if you wanted to do something crazy in public, like cut off his dick, then I'm with you." He stands up, looking grim. This is one of those instances wherein I'm glad that I know Blaine Tuttle.

"Don't." I grab his wrist. "It's fine."

His eyes pop out, making a face. "Fuck, Kathryn. Are you that whipped? The boy's cheating on you and you're just going to leave? Are you turning into a martyr like dear old Kansas?"

"I think," I reply coldly. "That you're getting it all wrong." I take the bill and pay in cash, standing up to leave without waiting for the change. Blaine follows me, still stunned. It is only when we are in the safety of his car that he talks again.

"Why didn't you confront him?"

"I don't know. I didn't feel like making a scene. I don't think I could have been able to remain gracious and polite under the circumstances. Just drive."

He does. He drives for a long time.

---

"Kathryn… are you okay?"

"Drive, Blaine. Just be quiet and drive."

---

"… we're at the Vanderbilts already. You were supposed to meet them, remember?"

I blink. Something strange is happening to me. Something alien and foreign that my body seems to be rejecting it.

I reach upwards and tug my hair. Hard. I grit my teeth at the pinpricks of pain.

It seems miniscule to everything else.  
---

"Kathryn, you look beautiful tonight." Adrian says this adoringly, looking me over as he opens the door to his house.

"Do I?" I reply, smiling back.

Black hair. Green eyes. Perfect face. Perfect smile. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Full mouth on Selena's lips. Kissing. Gently. Biting. Loving.

"Sorry, my parents are running late." My ex flashes me another grin, his gaze lingering on my chest. "Would you like a drink?"

"I think," I whisper, biting the insides of my cheeks. Kissing. Liar. I'll kill you. I'll fucking bury you. "I want something more than that."

I reach for his belt buckle.

---

"Oh, fucking shit baby just like that…!" Adrian moans.

I remain silent. Legs open. Ecstasy reverberating through my body. My insides flutter. Millions of happy butterflies dying all at once. _Fragile wings struggling to move, to be free, fly fucking bitches and leave me the fuck alone!_

Adrian grasps my breasts and brings his mouth to them. Suckling like a little boy. Nothing to drink, you good-looking bastard. Nothing left to have. Nevertheless, I keep my eyes straight at the ceiling. _Fuck me. Have me. Consume me._

"I'm so close baby, you just…" He grunts, "You are so perfect I've missed fucking you."

Black hair. Blond hair. Strands weaving together. In and out. Blue and green, creating a new ocean where I can't swim my laps. Too deep. Too dangerous.

He pulls out and strokes his cock, breathing heavily. Eyelids shut. Muttering and calling out to God. Then to me. I am his god.

He shakes a little when he arrives at that point, and I get up and leave.

"Tell your parents we'll have to reschedule, will you?"

Adrian's eyes are glassy and full of lustful devotion. He falls back on his bed, his muscular body slick with sweat and the aftermath of sex.

"Anything." He breathes, staring at me. "I'll do anything you want."

---

I come home to a worried Sebastian who has already finished packing. He sits on my bed, reading a book. As soon as I come in, he jumps off and greets me with a smile. Just like always, only not like always anymore.

"Bad day at the Vanderbilts again?" He asks sympathetically, leaning down to kiss me.

I turn away. I still tasted Adrian's spit in my mouth. Did he still taste Selena too?

"Hey, what is it? Are you okay? Are you feeling sick? Did Vanderbilt go too far?" Sebastian attacks me with his concern and it's too much. All of it. I take refuge in the bathroom. I strip quickly and immerse myself under the pelting clear water, closing my eyes. Rinsing off one boy from my body.

"Kathryn, you're scaring me." He pops open the door easily. Fucking broken knob.

I shut it off. "Do you ever feel guilty when you've lied to your conquests? Did you feel guilty when you told Dr. Greenbaum's daughter that you were with Amber when you told her you were visiting your Aunt Helen?"

He looks confused. "Why is that relevant here?"

"It isn't. I just wanted to know."

"No, I didn't feel guilty. I didn't give a fuck about her. I just wanted to see if she'd put out."

"Oh." I reply indifferently. "I see. Will you please let me finish my bath? I'd like to go to sleep in a few minutes. I'm extremely tired."

"Okay…" He answers, still unsure. "Can I sleep with you?"

"Sure." I reach for the soap and scrub as hard as I could. "Sure you can."

---

It's fine. It would have been fine before.

His arm around me, his body snug and fit against mine.

"Goodnight, Kathryn. I'll see you in a week."

Liar!

"No, you won't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that you already graduated early. You're going to leave now." I cringe when his face reflects immediate guilt. "Is that why you wanted to leave for the Rosemond Estate? I was right, wasn't I? One last fuck with dear old sis. You'll be back for prom. For me. Don't do me any favors. Just don't come back, I don't need anything from you."

"Kathryn, please."

"Please. Please fucking please!" I take his hand away from me, my chest hurts. It feels tight. "Selena Wade. Daughter of Hector and Alice Wade! Inherited half a billion dollars when she was seven and her parents died! She went to Manchester Prep with you and you loved her! Benjamin Dégat became her surrogate parent and she was his muse, goddamn perfect Selena Wade. Poor little rich fucking girl! When you were twelve, she was going to leave and she asked you to fuck her, and you did! The best night of your life, right??"

He loses his healthy pallor, as he understands my response. "You… you looked for her behind my back?"

"Fuck you! You don't have a right to be angry anymore! Just be fucking straight with me, you asshole! I'm not going to roll over and let you do this to me! She's back! Tell me she's fucking back and that you're going to her! ADMIT IT!"

"ALRIGHT! YES, I AM!" He screams back, leaving my bed to tower over me. "But you don't fucking understand—"

"I don't need to. It's over. I'm going to hurt her and then hurt you. That's the way it will go. Leave and never come back. I don't need you. I never wanted you. You were just a good fuck. I had sex with Adrian earlier and you know what, I LIKED IT! I DON'T FEEL GUILTY THAT I'VE DONE IT!"

"I have responsibilities I can't ignore." He says in a quieter voice. "It was real, what had been happening to us. You have to believe that."

Responsibilities. Like Conner. My handsome Valmont men taken away by responsibilities. "Believe you? Why?"

"I don't know."

"Congratulations on graduating. Have a happy life." I turn away from him, "Goodnight."

He leaves quietly. Somehow I know I will not see him for a while.

I touch the other side of the bed, now empty. The warmth will be gone soon. I thought of my life. Of prom. Of that beautiful dress I'll feel empty in wearing, of the unknown male hand I'll feel nothing for when it touches me. My date. Carmine. Adrian. Conner? I did not know.

Sleep arrives and brings me peace.

---

Morning comes and he's gone.

There's a small black notebook resting on the pillow beside mine where his head should have been, along with a letter.

_Kathryn,_

_ I'm sorry. That's all I can really say. There is a variety of apologies I can articulate, I'm sorry for this. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for Annette and I'm sorry that I called Alana. I'm sorry for fucking up and I'm sorry for lying to you. I'm sorry for taking Conner and I'm sorry for leaving you._

_ It had always been my plan to leave early, this was never about you. I made the arrangements long before something happened with us. Things had been easy then, but now it isn't. It isn't because of you and me. I was going to tell you that I was leaving early after prom, but then things don't always happen the way we want them to. I should know that.  
_

_ This is everything about Selena. I'm sorry that it got too far. You were right, it wasn't supposed to. There are some parts that will be difficult to read, but I wanted to tell you the truth. Please don't throw it away. I spent the whole night writing it._

_ I meant what I said. I'll miss you. I was too cautious to say something I've wanted to say for a while now. There never seemed to be a good time. I guess if you wait too long eventually it'll lose its meaning. I'd like to think that isn't the case but if it is, then I'll just say it now._

_ It was real._

_ I love you._

_ -S_

--- 

When I was young, my grandfather bought me a jigsaw puzzle. It had a thousand pieces, and being an ill-tempered child, I quickly grew frustrated with it. One day, as the pieces were scattered all around me, I lost my temper and I snatched whatever piece I could get, throwing it everywhere. Against the walls, across the room, it hit the vases and paintings, and some of it went behind desks and bookshelves.

Papa came back and he saw me. He wasn't mad, the way Mother or Father would have been. He placed me on his lap and I calmed down. Then he said that it was a shame, because the picture that could have formed was beautiful. I felt guilty and I said that I could still do it… so the maids helped me. They picked up the scattered pieces and eventually I put it all together.

But then I realized it wasn't finished. It'll never be finished. There were some pieces that were gone. It'll never be beautiful like Papa said.

_ Desunt cetera. _The rest is missing.

* * *

The end. 

... of part one of this story.

Part two is set in a different time frame. Conner will be in part two, as of course will Selena. The story will slowly unfold, because I like keeping people on their toes. I might continue under a different title, or just label Part Two in the next chapter and sort of mush the two under Desunt Cetera, start from Primus (1st) all over again since I noticed some people have this on their FF Story Alert and they might not catch it on time if I started under a different title.

Any votes? Will I put the next part under here or branch out to a different title?

Your review counts. So do it. Go on, reviews are my fuel. Haha


	27. Part Two: An Introduction

**Part Two:  
An Introduction**

_  
_

_Please stay. Where are you going? Nowhere, you say. But you turn to the window. Tell me again you're not going anywhere. I follow your gaze, trying to follow you— to slopes outside these panes of leaded glass._

- An excerpt of "Natives" by Fiona Cheong

I.

Time moves and stands still. Tick. Stop. Tock. Pause. There is nothing to ponder, nothing to analyze and dissect systematically the way I would do when I tried to read people. There is nothing to read. Sebastian isn't composed of words. He doesn't have sentences tattooed all over his body. Any rational explanation is in that notebook, hidden in my drawers like my stepbrother has hidden things from me. 

It's funny. Curiosity, the same thing that had caused me to steal the letter and make a copy of Selena's picture, now turns into something else. Wariness. Apprehension. We want what we can't have. Now that I have Sebastian's story, I'm scared to read it. Wondering what I might find out. Wondering what the fuck could have made her superior to me in his list of priorities.

The untouched cigarette rested on the ashtray, the smoke from the tip rising up until it eventually disappears. I quit smoking a long time ago since it did nothing for my teeth and my lungs. Despite this, sometimes I feel soothed by the mere sight of a lit cigarette. My answering machine is full of messages. My cell phone has been silenced. It blinks erratically every so often. Conner. Blaine. Adrian. Men calling. Well, technically two men and one homosexual. Two are worried. One is horny.

I haven't spoken to anybody in hours.

I keep blanking out. I haven't cried and never will. Aside from the necessary moisture needed to keep my eyes functioning, there is nothing. No leaks. Nothing to fix. Nothing is broken. I keep wondering about one thing.

Why didn't I see this coming?

There were scenarios. Clues. _There must have been._

The questions attack me in this state of numbness, and as I am submerged in this haze, I stand up. I cross the room and take the notebook.

My fingers don't shake. I don't tremble. I am still. Poised. Remember that.

I open it.

_ My life started even before you came. I told you that there are some parts of this that won't be easy to read and this is one of them. When I met you, I did not want you the way you might think. Like I said, it was not 'love at first sight', even when our parents got married and we got along, I didn't see you that way. That's the truth. When you went off to boarding school, I met Selena._

_ You don't know her, despite the things you may have found out. I've loved her for a long time. There was never supposed to be anything with you and me, and although there are times when I wish it never even started, I don't really regret it. Please know that. I never had the chance to thank you for going with me to Aunt Helen's house; everything had been perfect there. I never wanted to leave._

_ As you read this, I hope that although my actions are by your standards unforgivable, then at least I hope to somewhat justify myself. I know that you're considering the thought of revenge. Hurt her and then hurt me… that was your promise, right?_

_ Please read this and if you still want to do anything to punish anybody for putting you through this, then let it be me. Just me._

_ Lastly, I'm really sorry. For everything._

II.

Pleasure is no longer that, but a form of escape. Everything seems to be premeditated. There is no longer a sense of spontaneity that I believed once existed. It consisted of that simple and often savage rhythm. Pounding. Slamming. In and out. The vulgarity of sex, the raw slapping sounds of skins and groans. 

Anesthesia to numb something that is already numbed. I'm not hurt. Sebastian can't hurt me. I'm hurt by the defeat. I'm hurt by the fact that I was caught unaware of this attack. That's what stings. Not Sebastian. Not because he left. Not because he lied.

My head rolls back. My eyes close. The man on top of me grunts, lost in his own pleasure. Who was it? Carmine? Adrian? Was it Conner? No. It can't be Conner. Conner wouldn't have handled me like this.

"Fuck!" He groans, pulling out just in time. He ejaculates and I manipulate my clit, intent on keeping up. I bring myself to orgasm, my body spasms and I bite my lower lip.

"Best. Fucking. Prom. Ever." Carmine breathes, resting beside me. I glance at the discarded dress, crumpled on the floor a few feet from the bed. I think I spilled something on it. I don't care.

I take the champagne he offers me and smile as he nibbles on my arm. I take a sip and rest against the pillows.

"Best prom ever." I echo quietly before I stand up and stuff the dress in the trashcan.

III.

Monotony is water that seeps into my pores. Blaine carries the shopping bags inside the sitting room and I plop down, fanning myself as my face expresses the weariness from a long day of shopping. 

"Seriously, were you planning to buy the entire store?" Blaine gasps, wiping his face with a handkerchief.

"Don't be a baby." I roll my eyes, "It wasn't that many."

"The amount of money you spent could feed an entire legion of malnourished children."

"As opposed to the amount of drugs you sell which could kill an entire legion of malnourished children?"

"I'd be doing them a favor. At least they won't have to experience hunger."

"You're such a prick, Blaine."

"Oh… you know you love me. If I wasn't gay you'd be falling all over me with your creamy thighs spread open." He murmurs, grinning cheekily.

"The only way I'd ever spread my legs for you was if I were wasted and horny." I pause, narrowing my eyes. "Oh, wait. That already happened. I remember well… you ate me out pretty good."

It works. He blushes hotly. "You promised never to talk about that!"

"And you promised not to whine when we're out shopping." I retort. Then I hesitate. Pause. Stop. Here comes the question. "Have you found out anything about Selena Wade yet? I need to know more about her. Where is she? What is she doing?"

The jovial look disappears, to be replaced by a more serious one. "Kathryn…"

"Find her." I reply sharply.

"It's been a year…"

"I'm aware of the year, thank you. Are we still going to that party tonight? Oh, is it true that they'll be offering coke on trays? That'd be fun, wouldn't you think?"

He doesn't reply.

"Hey, fruitcake? What's up your ass?"

"It's just that you've been going out too much."

"And you're my mother now? I must have missed the memo." I smirk, but he doesn't chuckle like he would have done normally.

"Kathryn, a week ago you passed out in front of the doorman after getting home from a party. You were too drunk and high to get in, do you know how dangerous that could have been?"

"Jesus, are you going to fucking lecture me? I don't need one. I've never had one and you have no right to give me my first."

Blaine plays with his ring, slipping it off his middle finger and putting it back on. He's uncomfortable. "Conner and I worry about you."

"You brought Conner into this?"

"Kathryn, if this is because of Seb—"

The catalyst. The temperature rises. Warm. Hot. Searing fire. "Do not mention that fucking name." I hiss dangerously.

"This isn't healthy anymore."

"Get out."

Blaine actually tries to touch my arm, but I lean back.

"Get the fuck out, Blaine."

"Conner's…"

"I'm not talking to Conner!" I yell, "I haven't spoken to him since the fucker turned me down! You had no right to talk to him about me! Get the hell out of my house!"

He stands up and casts me a sad look. "Conner loves you."

"That makes him the only unlucky bastard then, doesn't it?"

"I love you too, princess."

"Great. Should we cry and hold hands?"

"No." Blaine replies softly, "You're supposed to let us in."

"I don't need anybody." I point to the door. "Now go."

IV.

Dim lights. Bodies nearly pressed together in both consensual and drunken intimacy. The shining silver tray stares back at me and I see my reflection blurred by the white powder. I look up at the man carrying it and I lean in to inhale. 

Lights explode in my head. I look around and I see Blaine with Conner. My mood is supposed to darken, but I don't feel mad at all. Someone's hand is moving up my thigh. It feels rough and callused, this hand. Nevertheless, I push it upward. _Fuck me. Fill me._

He (whoever he is) gets the idea. He kisses my breasts and I encourage him in breathy moans until my heart starts to pound wildly and the lust goes away immediately. I drift in and out of consciousness. Half dreaming and half awake. Flashes come. Blaine. Conner. Mostly Conner now.

"Get the hell away from me." I mutter, vainly pushing Conner away. I still remembered how he rejected me when I saw him last. Two days after Sebastian left, I came to him and tried to fuck him. He told me no. It wasn't right. He couldn't take advantage. Fuck you, Conner. Fuck you and your self-righteous bullshit.

He scoops me up anyway. He's pretty strong, and Blaine covers me up with his jacket to make sure that I won't get cold once we step outside. Oh, my beautiful caring men. Why don't we all fuck now? Why don't we all drink and do a line together?

I sleep in the car, then I wake up, only to sleep again. This state of tiredness. It catches up easily. Blaine drives while Conner holds me securely.

I watch him when I don't think he's looking. My anger slowly dies. I touch his jaw and he looks at me, his dark eyes full of concern.

"Conner?"

"Yes?"

"I missed you."

He doesn't reply. He doesn't need to. He adjusts Blaine's jacket so it covers me properly.

V.

One year and six months later. 

Ring. Ring.

"Before you speak, you must keep in mind that it's 3 in the morning here and I have a right to be severely irritated."

"Kathryn." His voice is ice water thrown all over me. Sebastian's voice is quiet and subdued. Deep, throaty, like he lacked sleep. Good.

I turn on my back and stare at the ceiling. I don't speak.

"Kathryn? Are you there?" Sebastian asks.

"Die." I reply. "Just die."

Click.

Sleep comes very easily. I sleep with a smile on my face and bitterness inside of me.

VI.

It consumes me before I have the chance to stop it. This need, this greed for pain. Selena Wade. Sebastian Valmont. People to kill and decimate. After much yelling and threatening from me, Blaine manages to pull some strings. They are indeed together. Living in Paris, Sebastian was studying in another school. Selena lived in one of Dégat's houses while Sebastian lived in a penthouse. There were photos, but I refused to look. Location, check. Good. I needed to know where the fuckers were.

But what to do…?

_Please read this and if you still want to do anything punish anybody for putting you through this, then let it be me. Just me._

Fuck you, Sebastian. Fuck you and your fucking notebook. Fuck you and Selena.

Rationality is overridden by rage and bitterness. Although I still excelled in my studies, this was what was in my thoughts. I was rifling through the sheets of paper when Conner comes in.

"Hey, I'll get dressed in a few minutes, I was just caught up with this. I know you have a flight in a few hours so we can just grab a quick dinner. Blaine's gotten new information and I was just looking for some sort of data I can use to fuck them over but if you could just wait a while—"

His eyes are sad. Beautiful. Perfect. He crosses the room and stands behind me. I stare at our reflection in front of the mirror. Dark haired angel right behind me, so worried. Always worried.

"Kathryn… let it go."

"No." I grip the papers tightly, crumpling it. Conner places his hands on my waist and I tense up. He leans in closer to my ear and my body wants him the way it wanted him long before this whole shit happened.

"Let it go… it's been two years."

"It's all I have left." I tell him.

"No." Conner's hands caress my arms as he takes it away from me. "It's not all you have left."

"Don't tease, Conner." I tilt my head back as I feel his face inches from mine. "You've turned me down before, if I try to get you to fuck me now you'll do the same thing. Don't do that."

"Let go." He repeats, staring at me.

My fists clench. I hold on tighter. Fighting.

But then he kisses my forehead. "It's not all you have left. Don't let it take everything you have right now, you know it will. You have so much going for you." He murmurs, his eyes half closed as though he was daydreaming pleasantly.

I hold on tighter. Then I start to relax. Leaning against him. I let go of the papers and he lets it fall all over the floor.

He finally kisses my mouth. I lose myself in him all over again, in the mixture of pleasure and pain. Somewhere between gentleness and roughness, Conner takes me. Every part. Every inch. Then it isn't premeditated anymore. It wasn't like prom night, or all the other nights I've spent with different men fucking me. Conner takes his time, and I let him. Time is nothing. It is irrelevant. Hit. Pause. Stop.

Slow motion.

As he slowly enters me, I grab his shoulders. "I wish…" My voice trails off but he nods anyway. He understands.

"I know. Me too. I wish it too." He whispers back, kissing the hollow of my neck. He rocks against me and I against him, finally pleasure returns to my body. It isn't an escape, but the affirmation of reality.

When it is over, I push myself against him, savoring his warmth. His beautiful body, every curve and inch, like I had done during our last night before the wedding.

"I still have to leave."

I nod, "I understand."

"Sleep well, little Kathryn." He tilts my chin to kiss me and I kiss him back.

VII.

I wake up to an empty bed, but I don't feel the sadness of it. There is a photograph on the side table. Little Kathryn and Teenage Conner smiling. 

I stare at it for a few seconds before I stand up and stretch, welcoming the morning and all the other mornings to come. Somehow I know that I will be different now.

* * *

Hello and welcome to the second part of my insanely long story. If you've read this far (in this case, why??), thank you! Thanks for the support and the kind reviews, I'm pleased that you like what's been happening so far. I can't give you details on what's going to happen next because I don't know it yet. 

All I know is round 2's just around the corner and I'll do my best! Keep reading and reviewing or I might stop for a month. (evil laugh) go on! **Review**!

It's nice that there are some speculations on why Seb left and I guess I'll answer a few of them now.  
_  
Did he get Selena pregnant when they were twelve and that's where he's been going for two weeks since he was twelve? _

Nope, but thanks for playing:D As far as I know, Annette is the only unfortunate girl who got knocked up in this story.

Here are probably some more questions you might ask:

_Will Conner and Kathryn try to work things out now that Seb's gone?_

Seriously? The possibilities are endless.  
_  
Will Conner leave his wife for Kathryn?_

Maybe.

_Will KS get back together?_

Don't be silly. They probably will, but I'll make it a hell of a lot difficult. That's where the fun lies, don't you think?  
_  
What on earth ever happened to Annette?_

Does anybody care about that?

_Will you finish this story?_

Will you hunt me down and tie me to my computer chair if I don't?


	28. A Premonition

**Part Two, Chapter 1: A Premonition  
**

**premonition ˌprēməˈni sh ən; ˌprem- noun **

**a strong feeling that something is about to happen, esp. something unpleasant**

_"The years that are gone seem like dreams—if one might go on sleeping and dreaming—but to wake up and find—oh! well! Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one's life."_

-An excerpt from "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin

_'…Lastly, I'm sorry. For everything.'_

_I turned the page._

_'These are entries of her from my journal. I rewrote them here because I couldn't give you the entire thing. You know why. There are entries written about you that I don't want you to read. Hurtful, insulting things I never really meant.'_

---

The following is an entry from Sebastian Valmont's notebook, given to me six years ago—

_October 5th_

_I went to her again, although I swore I never would. It was too difficult to see her, to look into her eyes and find that in their depths is a sorrow that had been caused by my selfish actions. Happy thirteenth birthday, Selena. The most beautiful girl in the entire world. I wonder if she remembered how I whispered it to her last year, before she had to leave and we both didn't know how long we had. Sometimes she reminds me of my stepsister. Her eyes particularly. Kathryn's eyes have a different shade than hers, and a different look in them somehow. I don't know Kathryn that much because Tiffany immediately sent her to boarding school, but I wish she were here. I liked having her around. She calls Blaine sometimes, I guess so he could update her on the life beyond the uptight Catholic bullshit schooling she had. It sucks that she was only here for a month. Sometimes I miss her._

_Anyway, Greta opened the door and let me in. At the look on her face, I knew immediately that I had come at the right time. I found Selena slumped on the chair, her eyes wide open and glassy. She'd been crying._

_I called her name and at my voice she looked up. She looked so miserable that even her beauty did nothing to lighten the darkness that encompassed her._

_"Selena," I said again, treading cautiously._

_She blinked the large tears that fell down her cheeks and tensed. Then she blinked again. Once. Twice. She looked confused and scared, her straight black hair a mess as it was hastily pulled up in a bun. Her fragile body was clothed in a pair of loose pajamas and spaghetti straps with the bare patch of smooth skin of her abdomen showing as she shifted her position. I hated myself for wanting her, for being so fucking attached to her that it left me drawn out at times._

_"I'm so tired." Selena replied, holding out a hand for me to take. I took it. Our fingers clasped together and she allowed me to sit beside her. She laid her head on my shoulder and her hair tickled my skin but I didn't move an inch. "Aren't you tired, Sebastian?"_

_I paused. The secret weighed me down until I became as heavy as her tears. What could I tell her to make it okay?_

_She lifted her head and stared at me questioningly. Her mouth was slightly parted and I couldn't resist. I leaned and kissed her and I felt her body press against mine. Strawberries. I smiled against her mouth._

_"Yeah." I took her hand and played with her fingers, the way Kathryn once did with mine when she went to my room and we talked for hours. (I don't think she noticed that she had moved closer to me and was now touching my hand) "I'm tired too."_

_She snuggled closer. _

_I'd do anything for her._

---

I was just about to sleep when I heard an urgent knock on my door. Glancing at my clock, I briefly wondered if I had forgotten to tell the doorman that he shouldn't let Carmine in anymore, only to realize that I hadn't seen Carmine for months and that I was now (technically) seeing a different man.

I shake my head slightly, as though the fogginess will clear up.

Which leads to my next assumption. Was Derrick back from Hong Kong? Had he somehow braved my wrath by persisting to be let in? I sigh and put on my robe, easily making my way through my Park Avenue residence. I had long since moved out of that forsaken townhouse.

I call the doorman, holding the cordless phone as I guardedly wait for him to answer.

"Hello? This is Kathryn Merteuil and I was wondering why the hell there's someone at my door when I haven't given any instructions that anyone would be let in."

The old man downstairs seems to be taken aback. "Bu-but… Ms. Merteuil, your brother said you were expecting him. I'm sorry that I didn't call to verify… I'm new here and…"

_Brother._

"I don't have a fucking brother." I reply stiffly. "What did this man look like? Blond hair, blue eyes? Was he a cocky asshole?"

"He said his name was Sebastian Val..."

I hang up the phone. With my hands growing colder at each step, I reach the door.

"Sebastian?"

"Yeah. Can you open the door?" He replies, his voice muffled.

I do.

For a while he just stands there looking at me. He's still a handsome fuckwit, I'll give him that. I'll also give him something else.

He smiles at me like he has just gotten home from school and had gone to my room to say hello.

"Hi, Kathryn."

I slam the door on his face. I hope it hit him.

He knocks again. "Alright, I had to have that. Can you please let me in now?"

"Go away." I yell back crossly. "Go to hell."

"I would but you see I'm very tired."

"Go sleep on the fucking sidewalk. Like I give a shit about you."

"Kathryn," he knocks again, sounding impatient. "This is ridiculous. I can barely hear you. If you're going to yell at me, you might as well open the door. It'll give more of an impact."

His flippant attitude makes me reach that point. Yes, _that_ point. The same point I went to when Derrick and I had a fight and I ended up throwing something at him. He had to have three stitches on his head. The same point when I screamed at Conner and Blaine to stop being overprotective faggots when I was busy being pathetic over that bastard outside who has the gall to piss me off right before I was going to bed.

Furiously, I open the door and curl my fingers, forming a fist. Before I know it, Sebastian has already yelled out in pain and my hand feels like, well, like I had punched a wall. Sebastian staggers backwards, his hand on his mouth. The fucker was bleeding. Good.

"Jesus, Kathryn!" He bellows, "What the hell! Since when have you turned into Million Dollar fucking Baby??"

I nurse my aching knuckles, glaring at him. "Call it an impulse."

He presses his handkerchief against his bruised mouth. My knuckles still hurt like hell but it was worth it. Despite the fact that I am obviously teetering on the very dangerous edge of my temper, he plows on heedlessly the way a stupid man does a dare just to prove that he can.

"Funny," He replies smoothly. "In the past, your impulse was to kiss me."

"Where the fuck is your girlfriend and what the fuck are you doing here?"

"It didn't work out." He offers this as though this is enough for me.

I stare at him incredulously. Fuck the edge. I was falling into my own anger.

"That's it?" I yell, "That's your only explanation??"

"Selena and I have a past. I thought you already knew that? Didn't you read my notebook? We tried to work things out but—"

I slap him. Then I smack the back of his head twice as hard. Then I can't really stop. I continue hurting him.

He instinctively raises his hands to defend himself before he finally has enough. He grabs my shoulders and shakes me hard, agitation replacing the smirk he had on earlier.

"Stop hitting me!"

"You asshole! You stupid, insensitive bastard! Let me go!"

He flinches. Oh, sweet darling stepbrother. Burn in hell. He releases me and I stomp away from him and head to the kitchen. Telling him to leave is like telling a rock to smile, so I might as well get a drink. I also figured that I could throw it in his face if we got into a heated argument. I don't just mean the drink. I was seriously considering the thought of throwing the glass as well.

"You look good." He comments quietly, his easygoing demeanor gone. He follows me to the bar and takes a seat, running his hand through his blond locks. "Can I have a drink too?"

"Sure. What do you want? Arsenic? I think the housekeeper leaves the stuff she uses to clean the bathrooms around here somewhere… I'd be glad to make you a drink with that. But then again, why prolong the process? Help me out and just shoot yourself. Just do it outside. I don't want your filthy blood to stain my things."

Sebastian chuckles.

"I wasn't kidding, shitface." I answer coldly. I easily down the bourbon, slamming the glass down with a vengeance. "What do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious? To see you of course."

"Well, take a good look and then get the fuck out. You're not in my life anymore. You haven't been for a long time and that's how I prefer it."

Unscrew the bottle and pour some more again. It's going to be a long night. He doesn't reply. He only stands up and moves closer.

"Stay away, Sebastian." Bottoms up. Bittersweet fuel that makes it all okay.

"No." He's behind me. Gone was the high school boy who fucked around. His body feels leaner. Bigger somehow. He lays his hands on both sides, trapping me with my stupid almost finished bourbon. "I won't stay away even if you hit me again and again."

"Fuck you. You can't fucking charm your way back into my life." I lean back and push him away, turning to glare at him. "Your petty attempts to seduce me won't work. Would you like to know why? Because six years ago a bastard screwed me over and completely changed things. I'm different now, Sebastian. Fuck off. I don't want you."

"Well I love you."

I slap him.

"I still love you."

I do it again.

"I don't think that ever changed."

"Eat shit, Sebastian."

He touches my cheek and I wrench away.

"I don't expect you to forgive me."

"How nice. You're having a smart moment."

"But I just wanted to do this." He leans in and kisses me. He tastes familiar even though it's been so long. My lips stay lifeless, like I was just waiting for him to finish so he can leave me alone.

He draws me to him by placing his hand on my waist. He doesn't quit. He continues kissing me and then I start to hate myself. Then I start to hate him because I'm kissing him back.

"I can't forget." I mutter, reaching behind me. I open the drawer just as his hand caresses my back.

"Can't forget what?" He murmurs.

I grasp what I'm looking for and grip it tightly.

I push him away gently. He seems surprised, but his blue eyes held a tiny flicker of hope that I found so endearing. It was as if we were seventeen again and he was asking me to leave with him.

"What you did." I spoke softly before I slit his throat open.

I watch him die without any remorse.

---

There is a sharp intake of breath as I wake up. I wait for a few tense moments as the reality of my dream leaves me before a smile curls up my lips.

I glance at the clock. 5:45 am.

What a nice dream to start my birthday with.

---

Hours later, I glance at the pile of paper work on my desk. Now working as an advertising executive in my father's agency, Merteuil/Lowe, I was living and breathing in one of the most stressful industries in the world. I didn't mind. I lived off the stress.

My phone rings and I answer it distractedly, still going through the files.

"Yes?" I ask tersely.

"Ms. Merteuil, there's a Mr. Valmont here to see you."

"Which Valmont?" I ask, although after having heard nothing from my absentee stepbrother except that phone call years ago, I already had an idea which Valmont it was. Still, it didn't hurt to be sure.

"Conner, M'am."

"Let him in." I can't help but smile. Before I know it, I was smoothing my hair back and straightening my already well ironed clothes. Conner enters, wearing a business suit. He's given up photography and now has total control of one of his father's companies.

"I can't take you out to lunch, I'm afraid." He looks at me apologetically, "There's another female who demands my immediate attention more than you."

This bothers me greatly, "Who?"

Then he smiles, knowing he has gotten me to fall for his joke. "Jessica. Izzy left her with me for the day while she went to meet Henry for lunch."

"Jessica's here?"

"Mhmm." He doesn't stop grinning. He knows that despite my proclaimed aversion to children, I adored Isabel's four-year-old daughter. "I don't get a 'Hello Conner'?"

I stand up and kiss his mouth. Just a peck, the way I've grown accustomed to greeting him over the years. "Where is she?"

"Probably looking for Elle. Jess idolizes her so much. She even asked me if she could get bangs like Elle's.'

"Oh shit." I groan, pulling his arm. We leave my office and Conner looks bewildered. "She can't see Elle right now."

"Why not?"

"Because we just lost fifty million dollar account and she was the one leading that project. She's furious at the moment."

"Oh." He considers it for a moment and then it sinks it more. Elle Fox was legendary for her hellish temper and after having broken too many things ever since she started working here, she decided to have another room built to have as an outlet for her rage while she practiced Kenjutsu— Japanese sword fighting. If it weren't for her above average intelligence she would have been fired. Almost everybody was afraid of her, but predictably I wasn't. She fascinated me too much. "Oh…"

Wordlessly we both hurry to Elle's office, looking for a little dark haired girl who was a smaller version of Conner's sister. As predicted, Elle wasn't there. There was a muffled sound of something hitting the floor, and then another sound of something hitting something—hard. She was in the practice room.

Jessica appears just behind us, sucking on a lollipop my secretary had probably given her. Her blue-violet eyes sparkles brightly with happy innocence.

"Aunt Kathryn!" She launches herself at me, hugging my knees. Then she starts speaking in Spanish rapidly, looking up at me with affection.

"Jess, English please." Conner reprimands sternly. "Aunt Kathryn has no idea what you're talking about."

"_Lo siento_, Uncle Conner." Jess replies sweetly, winning him over with a gaze.

"Apology accepted." He replies easily, not really mad.

"Aunt Kathryn, will you take me to Burger King?" She asks me excitedly. "I want to eat fries!"

I try to hide my repulsion at her food preference and yet somehow it still shows clear on my face. The thought of spending my birthday in a fast food restaurant greatly perturbs me.

I hear a soft chuckle that sounded suspiciously like Conner's.

"See? I told you." He remarks to his niece. "She'd turn green."

"You told her to say that!" I accuse, poking his hard chest with my finger. He shows his guilt by smiling mischievously.

"Fucking—stupid—shit eating—bastards!" Elle's irate voice, although barely audible, was still clear. I cover Jessica's ears on impulse and sigh. There was another loud thud, followed by a groan.

"Wait here." I tell them. "I'll speak to her first. If we stay here she'll probably give Jessica an entire dictionary's worth of swear words."

"Sure." Conner carries his niece in his arms and she burrows her head against his neck. It's a nice sight to look at although I'm relieved that it wasn't his kid with Alana.

I enter the room, unfazed by the loud thwacking of wooden swords hitting each other in what seemed to be an intense duel. Elle, being of multi-racial heritage, embraces her Japanese descent by furiously cursing in alternating languages. Although the board members had warned her to use protective gear during her sessions, she never really wears one. I think the old bastards were more concerned with disfiguring her face more than anything. Her graceful, lithe figure moves swiftly as she attacks her opponent, an unfortunate man who was now sorry that he was her trainer.

"Elle."

She doesn't seem to hear me. Her concentration is astounding, it's like she has blocked out everything else. Swinging her weapon, she feints to the left and then drives it into the man's chest. He topples and lands with a thud—again.

Apart for the groaning of the injured trainer, she seems silent. Her olive cheeks are flushed, blue-gray eyes alight with satisfaction and… hunger.

"Elle." I call her again, and this time she turns to me. Her long black hair is pulled up in a ponytail and bits of stray hairs stuck to her face as she continues to sweat. Wearing loose, white pants and a sports bra of the same color, I fully understand why everybody underestimates her at first. With her tiny, delicate features, Elle Fox looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly. Well, she probably wouldn't. She probably prefers hurting people.

"Sorry." She replies, her voice has a musical lilt into it. Soft and breathy, again a contradiction to her violent tendencies. "We really lost a lot on that one. I was sure I had everything ready but the fuckers led us on. I spent six fucking months on that stupid, piece of shit—"

"It's fine." I wave her ranting away, dismissing it. "Jessica's outside with Conner. She wanted to see you, but apparently you might slice her in half so I decided to intervene."

Elle looks amused, holding up the sword. "It's wooden, Kathryn. I can't slice anything."

"I'm sure you'd find a way."

"True." She grabs a towel, wiping her face. Her fit body made me doubt mine, but just for a second. She kicked people's asses, I swam. "But I wouldn't do that to Jess. Let me go change first, she can wait in my office if she wants to. Don't worry, there aren't any sharp objects lying around. I keep them all here."

I look at her, "Do you know that you're a very disturbed woman?"

She flashes me a grin, picking up her bag. "So are you."

I consider it for a moment. "True. Anyway, I'm going out for lunch. Call me in case something happens that you can't handle."

I know that my phone would stay obediently silent, of course. I only said it as a courtesy, but Elle was really much more capable than anybody in the agency. Well, anybody except for me.

"Is Jess coming with you and Conner?" Her tone changes when she says Conner's name.

"I guess."

"Oh. Well let me go say hello to her first then. I don't want to delay you any further." She leaves the room and Jessica smiles brightly, obviously in awe at Elle.

"Hi, sweetheart." Elle says warmly, any trace of fury now gone now that she had beaten the shit out of that groaning man inside the room. Jessica approaches her but Elle only pats her head. "I'm sorry I can't hug you right now. I'm still sticky."

"It's okay." Jessica looks at her uncle, suddenly shy.

"Hi, Elle." Conner greets her, smiling halfway.

"Conner." Her eyes grow softer as they meet his. "It's nice to see you again."

"You, too. I heard you were the one who organized Kathryn's birthday party tonight with Derrick and Blaine… that was nice of you."

"It's nothing, really. Are you going?"

He casts a sideways glance at me and I narrow my eyes. It's obvious he finds her attractive. Who doesn't? I still feel jealous. I don't think I'll ever stop feeling jealous of women who wanted Conner.

"Yes. Kate would kill me if I didn't go."

"I want to go!" Jessica pouts but Elle gets something from her desk and hands it to her. She disarms my niece easily the way she does most people.

"It's a doll from Japan." Elle kisses Jessica's forehead. "I'm sorry, darling. The party is for grown ups only, but I'm sure you'll have your doll to keep you company."

Once again, my usually hardheaded niece turns shy.

"How do you do that?" Conner asks, amazed. "I can barely bribe her with anything."

"People usually find me very charming. Of course, it doesn't always work, like that fucking account that was led by that pig bast—"

"Language!" I interrupt, glaring at her.

"Sorry." Elle shrugs, "Well, I won't keep you waiting anymore. Have a great lunch, I'll see you later."

---

It was the very picture of a family. It was weird, really. Me with Conner and Jessica, eating lunch and not feeling the urge to run away. Once in a while, Conner would pause to help Jess with her food and I'd wipe her chubby face whenever she makes a mess of things. It's a wonder how much things change.

"Is Derrick coming later?" He asks, slicing his steak with ease. "I needed to talk to him about the stocks. Rumor has it that his company's going to be merging with—"

"He said he'd try to make it, but really, Conner. You and my boyfriend would just have to talk boring business in your own time. I have enough to handle at the agency."

He laughs; his white teeth seemed to gleam. I notice the waitress who had served our food hovering nearby, staring at him. "Perhaps you're right. I apologize, it's just that my dad told me that Uncle Edward's condition was worsening and I was getting worried. My dad and Uncle Edward also have a partnership, so it would complicate things if he…" his voice trails off. I could tell he really didn't want to continue the conversation. My stepfather's cancer was eating away at him and it was still undecided as to whether or not he would be cured by the treatments.

I take a sip of water and then became very still.

In my peripheral vision, there was a flash of curly blond hair. I turn my head but quickly find no one. Had I just imagined it?

"What happens if he dies?" I ask curiously.

"I don't know. Sebastian's going to inherit everything, and technically my dad already gave me one of the companies. The problem is that Uncle Edward's a co-owner of my firm, and I was thinking of selling a few assets. I need to get his approval first, which I probably would have already if he weren't sick. So now I have to talk to Sebastian, and to be honest I really don't want to." He grips his utensils tighter.

I stop eating and look at him concernedly."Why not?"

"Because of what he did to you." He whispers, staring at Jessica as he tells me this like he's scared she might notice the way he acts differently around me.

'Conner." I reply gently, smiling at him. At how worried he was. "I'm over that, really. Just last night I had the most wonderful dream of—" I glance at Jessica and covered her ears. She dutifully allows me to touch her. "—slitting his fucking throat."

"Anyway," He changes the topic, "I'm sorry about that. We should talk about other things. I'm sorry to have ruined your birthday with that topic."

"You didn't ruin it. You don't ruin anything. You just fix things and make it better." I answer, looking into his dark eyes. He squeezes my hand and smiles back.

We ate, our conversations now on more pleasant things. I talked about how Blaine met this Swedish guy he says he's going to bring to my party tonight, about how he seems to be utterly smitten and about how large his… (then I stop because I remember there was a four year old at the table). He talked about Isabel and her husband Henry, about how his sister was genuinely happy with him. We don't talk about his wife, or the fact that he's still with her after all these years. We don't talk about Sebastian anymore. Carefully, I broach in on Elle. I wanted to see what he thought of her because I was still unsettled by the way they looked at each other earlier.

"Elle?" He looks confused. "What about Elle?"

"Are you attracted to her?"

"What?" He laughs, "Where did this come from?"

"Nothing. Just from the way you were looking at each other."

"Kathryn," His voice sounds teasing. He covers Jessica's ears this time. "are you jealous?"

"Of what?" I scoff, "Of Elle? Of course not!"

"Because you know that I'm attracted to you."

"I guess." I reply nonchalantly, yet secretly I was appeased. I feel a little guilty of thinking this, because I had a boyfriend I was contented with. Still, I knew it couldn't be helped. He was Conner. My Conner.

He chuckles again, removing his hands from Jessica's ears. I remain silent, unburdened by anything at that moment. I had everything I needed.

But then, a very small part of me knows it won't last.

It never usually does.

* * *

A/N: As of today… 13400+ hits! (Staggers backwards). Thank you very, very much for reading! Yes, I know. I'm a mean writer for making you guys think that was real… again. :D 

It's my midterms so I will be dragging myself away from this. I have my very first deadline for a story so I'll have to concentrate on that as well. I hope you enjoyed this one at least. I made it extra long.

_Be a good reader and review. Ramble on and on, curse profusely (I took out the profanity filter because I'm a potty mouth so why deny you the right to curse?), tell me what's on your mind. Just go. Reviews are the ink to which my pen writes with._

As you can tell, Conner didn't leave his wife after all. I didn't want to take that route. I like him too much to set him up like that.

Anyway—

Get your replies here! Read all about it! (I'm sorry I didn't have time to address all of you, but next time I'll try.)

Born Restless: Why two years? Well, why not two years? Besides, doesn't being emotionally attached to a person you would love nothing more than to hate make things so much complicated? Did she immediately want to kill him or did a very, very small part of her think he was going to come back? Furthermore, whoever said Seb and Selena were easy to find? I mean, were they really in Paris or did they go somewhere else after Seb left? And, did Blaine really work hard to help Kathryn out or was he, like Conner, worried about what this would do to her so he delayed it? Hmm. Thoughts to ponder indeed. Actually, I'll go into that soon. Give it time and have faith. ☺

Xjolie: Don't kill yourself because then if you do I'd feel terribly guilty and I wouldn't be able to update, and based from a few reviews, I've been threatened that I was to be hunted down and tied to my computer chair if I didn't comply. So, really. Won't you feel responsible if that happened:D

ButItsBetterIfItsBrucas: Give K some time, she probably will do something horrible.

Anon: (runs and hides)

Wildly Obsessed: (runs and hides from you too)

Kaila: Nah, nothing like a movie. It'd span for hours. Maybe like a TV show or something, "Previously on Desunt Cetera, Sebastian's mysterious past wreaks havoc into his otherwise flourishing relationship with his stepsister. Last season left us hanging when Sebastian inexplicably leaves Kathryn with only a notebook to tell the tale of the other female in his life, but what happens next? Watch out for Season 2!" Lol, I've always thought Mark Schwahnn has a great job writing One Tree Hill. ☺ As for the book, well I wouldn't want to get sued or anything but if I do manage to write one, I'll send you a copy. No, wait. Just please buy a copy. I need the royalties. Haha :D

Erika: I have a fan! Hahaha, yes and I'm very thankful for your reviews. :D

Mariel: Yay Team Conner! I'm glad you like him, it's really fun writing him.

Hayakawa: may hate you, but I certainly don't. Thank you. Poor Conner? Don't worry. I'll take care of him. Things Unsaid? Hmm. I don't know why. I think I was trying to create a character like Conner and I somehow failed. Parker's an earlier version of Conner. 'This writing style seems familiar…'. I'd rather have you say 'oh look! She's the author of An Awakening in Five Acts/Behind Closed Doors/anything else but BGA/AIE'. I'm terribly embarrassed about my earlier works because of their numerous typos that I'm too lazy to go and edit.

B: That excerpt I gave you was from an earlier version of this chapter. Sorry it wasn't accurate. I should stop giving you excerpts already. :D

Everybody else-- thank you. Seriously. Your reviews make me write so much more than I should.


	29. Collide

**Part Two, Chapter 2: Collide**

**  
collide kəˈlīd kəˌlaɪd kəˌlʌɪd**

**verb [ intrans. **

**hit with force when moving :**

**• come into conflict or opposition**

_Here it is, here it is at last, the encounter with reality . . . . All is lost now!_

-An excerpt from "Notes from Underground" by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

8 years ago—

_ "Are you going to be okay?" Conner asked, his arm around my shoulder while his miffed girlfriend stared daggers at me._

_We stood outside my house, the sky was already dark and it was great that it looked so bleak because it suited my mood. Papa died. My tear ducts have dried up, his shirt has absorbed whatever amount I could cry. Now I was nothing. I did nothing. I only stared blankly at him as he led me to the door. His girlfriend made a whining noise but he ignored her._

_"Kathryn?" He stroked my hair, his fingers made my stomach tingle. He was so good-looking I secretly wanted the stupid bitch he was with to leave so he would stay with me. I knew that would never happen. I wanted him, but Conner never wanted me._

_"I'm fine." I answered, nodding. I feigned a smile, taking his hand away. "Really, I am. Sorry for ruining the day."_

_His eyes squinted as he looked at me. There was something I couldn't quite explain with the way he stared, but then it was gone, whatever it was. "You didn't ruin anything. Fuck, I wish I could be at the funeral. I'm sorry, I need to return to Madrid immediately."_

_"Conner, it's okay. I was just glad you were there."_

_"I'll call you." He promised, his concern was still apparent. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me back. I wanted him to fuck me so badly at that point. Perfect, handsome Conner._

_I started to reply but whatever good mood Sebastian's cousin may have incited in me disappeared when a familiar car pulled up the curb. Sebastian smiled upon seeing me and nodded a greeting at Conner before getting out of the car._

_"Hey," He drawled. "how's my favorite stepsister?"_

_I remembered the many times I tried to call him and the fact that he never answered. Asshole. I didn't need him now. Glaring at him with utmost loathing, I kissed Conner's cheek before storming inside._

_"What the hell?" Sebastian exclaimed, but I never heard Conner's response because I hastened my pace, knowing he'd come after me once his cousin filled him in._

_He did run after me and grabbed my arm, turning me around. His smirk was gone._

_"I'm sorry." He said quietly, "I didn't know."_

_"Of course you didn't know, you asshole. You weren't answering the phone."_

_"What?" He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and then glanced at the screen before sighing. "Fuck. Look, I'm really sor—"_

_"Fuck off." I yell, pushing him away. I half ran to the safety of my bedroom and locked the door. He knocked afterwards, expressing his futile apologies._

_"Kathryn, please. I'm sorry, okay? Don't be mad."_

_"Go away."_

_"Look, what do you need me to do? I'm sorry I didn't answer my phone, okay? I'm sorry that your grandfather died. Was he important to you?"_

_"What the hell do you think?" I screamed back, my fists clenching. The sound of his voice made me angrier by the second. "Why the fuck do you think I'd call you if he hadn't been important to me? Why the fuck do you think I needed to—"_

_Hear your voice?_

_But I didn't say it. He continued his pleading but I remained silent._

_"Needed to what?" He asked, frustrated. His knocking became more hurried. "Why do I think you needed to what, Kathryn?"_

_I didn't reply._

_He left after ten minutes._

---

It couldn't be any better than this.

That was what I had to say about tonight, admitting that Blaine, Elle, and Derrick (who had probably bankrolled the entire thing while Blaine and Elle had a catfight over the designs, theme and so on) had gone beyond my expectations. After Elle nearly went to get her katana to decapitate Blaine during one heated argument over where it would be held, Derrick, via phone, decided to give up his mansion so the party would have a venue.. There was no point in killing Blaine, he'd reasoned to a livid Elle. He was important to me.

At least, that's what Elle and Blaine reported as I entered Derrick's palatial mansion. I had smiled and nodded my assent. I congratulated them, telling them I couldn't have done a better job.

Well, I probably could have, but for the sake of appreciating their efforts I said it anyway. There were a lot of guests, mostly business associates and acquaintances of mine. I even glimpsed Adrian somewhere, but he was attached to his model girlfriend. Good. I didn't want him trying to feel me up tonight.

"So?" Blaine asks, nodding to a short but muscular man whose suit seemed to be too small for him. "How do you like Mikel?"

"Well, seeing as how you told me his dick was as big as your arm, what's not to like?" I reply, grinning mischievously.

He sighs, sipping his drink. "Bigger. I swear, my ass feels like—"

Elle shoots him a dirty look, her twinkling blue-gray (although tonight it seems to be more gray than blue) eyes narrowing. "Please don't make me get my sword and slice you a bigger anus. You're disgusting, Blaine."

"Elle, you just need to get laid."

Elle cocks her head, "Screw you."

"I'm sure your little crush on me is adorable but the idea of you screwing me—with your wooden sword in my ass—is just painful. If you fuck the way you fight, I feel sorry for your fuckbuddies."

"You shouldn't be." Elle smiles, spying someone behind me. "Hi again, Conner. Where's your wife?"

Conner gives me a kiss automatically, wishing me a happy birthday before grinning at Elle. "Like she's great friends with Kathryn. She's gone out with her friends for the night."

"Well, I would have had her kicked out anyway." I shrug, "I guess it's a good thing she didn't make it."

Conner purses his pink mouth, "You're such a bitch."

"Oh, you love me for it." I hold out my hand expectantly. "And where's my present?"

"How about… one week with me?"

I make a face, "I could have that anyway."

"Okay…" He pauses, extending my anticipation. "One week in Paris, just the two of us."

"Seriously?"

He nods, smiling. "Whenever you want. I'll clear my schedule."

"Deal." I immediately say, thrilled at the thought. It had been a while since I was alone with him. We had both always been too busy these days.

"Okay, are you even still married?" Blaine interrupts, looking at him curiously. "How the hell can you do that?"

"Because," Conner replies slowly, looking at me. "She's Kathryn."

"I'm going to throw up." Blaine curls his lips distastefully.

"Do it and I'm going to really shove my sword up your ass." Elle warns, looking horrified.

And we all laugh at this, I meet Blaine's eyes as Conner absentmindedly wraps an arm around my shoulder. He grins at me and I nod, smiling back. Maybe what I was feeling was something close to contentment.

But then the lights were suddenly off. There was a large screen uncovered from across the room, and before I know it, Blaine and Elle were all gently pushing me to the center. Derrick's face suddenly appeared, his blue eyes looked tired but he still looks so handsome. He'd loosened his tie and his dark hair was a bit messy. It was clear that he was back in his hotel room with his laptop, recording a video just for me.

"Darling Kathryn," He begins, his even teeth showing as he smiles. "I know I'm in a lot of trouble because I couldn't make it, and that you'll probably make me suffer."

The crowd laughs and I smile along with them.

"I also know that this video, however large my face has been magnified for everyone to see and however this has pleasantly surprised you, will only lessen the suffering I'm going to expect when I arrive." He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. "But I just wanted to wish you a very happy twenty-fourth birthday. I hope that you're enjoying yourself and that I miss you so much. Before this gets disgustingly sentimental, I'll leave it at that. I love you and I'll see you soon. I've sent Elle your gift by the way, just in case you thought this lame video was the only thing I was going to give you." He pauses. "I can't wait to see you."

The screen goes to black and everybody awws because nobody would have done the same for them. Because Derrick Saxton was all mine and nobody would ever get him to do all the things he'd done for me.

I consider myself lucky at this point, and I feel as though everything is working well. As the waiters all push a large, three-tiered cake towards me, I look around the room. They watch me and they admire me. Even though Mother is here, she doesn't ruin things. I look at my friends, these people I've grown to trust over the years. Conner, Blaine, and Elle. They're beautiful, all three of them, as they stand beside me. Even Derrick, who was absent, completed this circle I never thought I'd have. There was a velvet-covered box placed on top of the cake, with a piece of clear plastic to keep it from falling.

"It's perfect." I murmur to myself and I lean in to blow the candles. The photographers had a ball taking photos of us, Blaine and Conner on both sides like marble statues who would protect me. My almost brothers. Elle smiles demurely beside Blaine, her delicate features are every photographer's dream.

And it was perfect.

Until I saw Sebastian walk into the room.

---

_ I clenched my fists, keeping my head low as the casket was lowered. I watched Papa disappear forever, and was sickened at the thought of his handsome, creased face rotting. Mother and Edward stood beside me, Mother kept a good show of pretending to cry. Edward pretended to care. Everybody in the room pretended to love Papa, when they were in reality just fond of him. I loved him. Not all these fuckers._

_The service was over, and everybody was leaving without a backward glance. I heard snippets of their conversation. They were already talking about what they'd have for lunch. Fucking plastics. I hated them._

_I stood stoically in front of the gaping hole, refusing to leave. Even when Mother started to grow angry, I remained stubbornly still._

_I was going to tell her that I was leaving boarding school. I didn't want anybody else dying while I was holed up in that shithole._

_"Kathryn Merteuil, get inside the car now!" She yelled, her cold voice made me shake a bit but I kept staring at Papa's coffin._

_"Fine!" She snapped, "Take a cab!"_

_They drove away and I walked backwards until I sat down. It was starting to rain. Just a drizzle. It didn't bother me. I felt peaceful._

_I thought I was alone until Sebastian sat beside me. I didn't talk to him. He didn't say anything. He didn't apologize, I didn't tell him to fuck off. He took the fallen rose on the dewy grass and carefully threw it into the hole, paying his respects._

_"He was a great man if he was important to you." He told me softly. I remained still for a while, but eventually our hands inched closer until he clasped my hand in his._

_I forgave him right then and there. I could never really stay angry with him. It was tiring to be angry at Sebastian because I know that it went against the order of things.  
_

_I turned and wordlessly wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his shoulder. We stayed there until night came. When we left, he had his arms around me and I had my head on his shoulder. Sometimes he's so dependable._

_"You can't always redeem yourself when you leave me."_

_Sebastian nodded and he walked me to my room. As I was about to enter, he caught my arm. He leaned closer and he looked at me-really pierced through me—there was something hidden in his eyes, something similar to what I'd seen in Conner's only… different. More guarded somehow._

_"I know." He whispers. "But I'll always try anyway."_

* * *

A/N: No, I'm not that sadistic. This isn't a dream. She's not hallucinating. It isn't some guy who looks like Seb. It really is him. Who's going to scream at me for an update? I'm already expecting it. (braces herself for the inevitable: "How could you leave it at this???")Haha :D

Replies, replies.

B: See what I mean?

jenni-phurr: I know. I purposely made him like that, you never really quite know what he's thinking.

Sandsagent: Welcome back! Enjoy the story:D

arely: Patience. Things will work out for her soon. :)

annablake: Thank you very much, you'll have to wait till the next chapter to see them interact. I'm building up the suspense! (evil laugh)

alexia: Wow, thanks! Don't worry about it, English isn't my first language either. ;)

WildlyObsessed: Yep, and I'm being mean again aren't I? Haha

Kendra: Seb's suffering will come soon, I assure you. Of course, I'm quite biased, if you only knew what he's gone through... Hmm. Never mind. I might spill very vital information about the story. :D

Nadia: You're in luck! Today's Update Day:D

arrowhead-water: I know, everything was going well for her. Tsktsk. Seb's an asshole. Haha, but then it's great that you think that. I wanted the readers to see her all grown up and independent. It would've been pathetic if she had still been moping. She's Kathryn for crying out loud.

xjolie: I hope you enjoyed this!

Erika: Have faith. Every character has a purpose in this insanely long tale. :)

Kaila: You're addicted to reading it, I'm addicted to writing it. Thank you. :)

Celeste and rippedjeans: Muchos gracias, kind readers. Wait for the next one:D


	30. Hate

**Part Two, Chapter 3: Hate**

**hate hāt heɪt heɪt  
verb [ trans.  
feel intense or passionate dislike for (someone)**

_"The greatest sin a person can do to another is to take away that life."_

-An excerpt of "The Color of Water" by James McBride

Sebastian is here.

"No." I say this before I can help myself. Blaine's eyes widen in disbelief while Conner's smile fades a little. Then he scowls. Elle, for the most part, is completely oblivious. It is only when she looks at me and notices that the color has drained from my face that her smile also disappears.

"What's wrong?" She questions, frowning at the three of us. "Did anybody die?"

"I wish." I mutter, unable to look away at Sebastian approaches us. He looks older than he did in my dream, more manly than boyish. His shoulders seem broader, or maybe it has always been like that and I just forgot. His face is cleanly shaven, and his dark suit was still immaculate. Everything was essentially the same, except there was no more carefree expression on his face like before. Maybe he had aged more than I did, what with his responsibilities…

Mother goes to us upon seeing her stepson, obviously to suck up since she has no idea what was in Edward's will. I don't notice her. I was too busy looking at him.

"Well, well," Blaine comments after a long pause. "The prodigal son, back from the dead."

"Hello, Blaine." Even his voice sounds deeper. His blue eyes meet mine and his face retains its serious expression. At least he didn't try to piss me off like he did in that fucking dream. Real, older Sebastian was definitely wiser than Dream, younger asshole Sebastian.

"Happy birthday, Kathryn." His eyes dart around the room and at the photographers before leaning in to kiss my cheek. The media be damned or not, I instinctively step away from him. Conner braces his hand on the small of my back.

"I'm sorry for coming here unannounced." He tells me, nonplussed by my defensive action. "I needed to speak with Conner."

I glance at Conner, who stares at me for a moment before responding.

"About?" He replies coolly.

Sebastian's gaze flickers over the two of us again, a brief moment at Elle, obviously wondering who she was, before returning to his cousin.

"I got a call." He answers, "Dad's getting worse. I was told that you were planning to sell a few assets and I know that you'd need my approval. I apologize because it can't wait, I have to be back in Paris for Sel—"

Sebastian stops talking and he quickly glances at me. He clears his throat, tugging his tie. He does that when he's uncomfortable. "There are some details I need to go over with you right now. It won't take long, but I'm afraid I can't reschedule."

Conner starts to open his mouth but then Mother finally disrupts the tense silence. She clamps Sebastian's arm and he dutifully kisses her cheek. His movements seemed forced somehow. Like an invisible hand was jerking him around.

"Darling, how are you?" Mother croons.

"My father, your husband's dying." He snaps at her, "How are you?"

Mother flinches but recovers quickly. "He would have wanted me to come. This was Kathryn's big night and I made sure that I left him with the best nurse."

"I'm sure." He replies, his voice sarcastic. Then he looks at me and somehow his face softens. "I have a gift for you but I left it at my hotel. I'll give it to you some other time." Sebastian answers, the strange calm indifference masking him again. "I had been in a hurry to talk to Conner."

"Well, here he is." I stare him dead on, unwilling to bend. Unwilling to be bothered by his lack of emotion.

"Oh, wait. Why don't you dance with your stepsister before you do that, Sebastian?" Mother suggests, sounding excited as she motions at the photographers.

"Mother, please—"

"For the society page." She hisses, glaring at me darkly. I can't help it. I succumb. Even though I'm older, she still intimidates me from time to time.

"Tiffany, really. I'm sure Kathryn has guests to attend to. I really should talk to Con—" Sebastian also tries, but Tiffany shushes him. Mother pushes me towards him and when I come too close, he reaches out and places his hands on my arms instinctively, keeping me at bay. He won't let me get too close.

We stare at each other, communicating a single thought despite the coldness of our gaze.

_She won't shut up unless we do this._

Then wordlessly we agree.

"I apologize." He says, holding out his hand. "I hadn't known Tiffany would insist."

"No problem." I take his hand and he leads me to the dance floor. "It's just a dance. You can leave afterwards."

He doesn't respond to that. The band plays a slow song and for a while he just stands there. Then he awkwardly tries to figure out where to put his hands on me. A small frown creases his brow and he looks at me as though he wanted me to tell him what to do, to give him some sort of idea where he could place his hands on.

"What's the matter?" I mock him, raising an eyebrow. "Has it been so long that you'd forgotten how to hold me properly?"

The moment I say it, it is only then that I realize the numerous contexts my question contained. His frown clears and once again, the apathy dissolves. Sebastian—the boy I was at the Rosemond Estate with— places his hands on my waist. Exactly where he used to place it all those years ago.

"One never forgets such things." He says quietly.

"Perhaps." I place my hands on his shoulders as we start to move. "But I have. I've forgotten things like that."

He gets it immediately. His eyes smolder mine and I watch as his mouth moves. "Have you really?" His voice is a near whisper.

"Yes. Six years can do a lot to a person."

"You're right." He hesitates like he wants to say something more. Then his voice cools. It changes again. "You're absolutely right."

We dance in that place between everything else, where nothing else could be said. When it ends, we smile for the photographers. Sebastian greets me again, his smile painted on. I can tell. I could always tell when he wasn't really smiling.

As we return to my table, I see Conner waiting for us.

"There he is." I break the silence detachedly. "Thank you for the greeting. It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. Goodbye."

He nods, and then before I can act, he places his hand on my waist. He leans forward and brushes his warm lips against my cheek. Girls everywhere sigh in envy. I feel something tugging my insides. Why does he smell so good?

"I'll give you my gift." He promises quietly. "I really do have one."

"You don't have to. Don't promise me anything anymore. It's fine, Sebastian."

He hesitates, glancing at Conner who was just watching us. "I'll see you around, sis."

"I hope not." I reply in a low voice, just loud enough for him to hear. He winces, but he doesn't react. He just goes to Conner and they walk away. How ironic. The two men I was once so fond of. Well, at least one of them I was once fond of.

They sit down, their faces grim. I watch them as they converse, and at first Conner seems harsh. He glares at Sebastian and then they both briefly glance at me. I look away.

"They look like they're going to kill each other." Blaine observes, "Don't you think so?"

"No. I won't let Conner do the honors."

But then Sebastian continues talking, gesticulating once in a while. Eventually the glare disappears and somehow I know they're already talking about business.

"Who was that?" Elle follows my gaze, settling curiously on Sebastian.

"My stepbrother."

"He's hot."

"He's taken." I say this more sharply that intended and Elle looks at me, surprised.

"By who?" Elle smirks. "By you?"

"Don't be ridiculous." I snap, glaring at her. "He's my brother."

"Why are you mad at him?"

"Because he's an asshole." I reply offhandedly, trying to think of something pleasant. I tried to return to that almost contented feeling I had while the cake was being brought to me but somehow I don't even remember what it felt like.

"Blaine?" Elle inquires. "Did she fuck him?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask Kathryn to tell you that particular horror story." My friend replies, wisely staying out of it. I flash him something that resembled a grateful look. I say resembled because it is like my face is frozen and I don't know what to do.

I'm mad at him. No, not mad. I'm furious at him. I'm furious because he managed to ruin my night. I wanted to tell him to fuck off properly. I hated having to be polite to him when all I really wanted to do was hit him.

As I turn to look at the table, however, he was gone. I catch a glimpse of his back just as he opened the door and quietly left.

"Kate," Conner comes up, looking apologetic. "I have to go."

"What did the fucker want?"

"Business. It's just business." He replies, but even then there is that familiar pinprick I never thought I'd feel again. Just business. "I have to go with him to Uncle Edward's office, there are some files that need to be reviewed tonight…"

"Go." I nod, noticing how carefully he was watching me. "I'm not angry." I add, smiling for his benefit. "Go, really."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow." He kisses my cheek and I wish he would fuck me right now because I had a sudden craving to be fucked hard.

"Conner?"

"Mmm?"

"About my birthday gift…"

"Yes?"

I try to make my voice sound indifferent. "Can we not go to Paris?"

But he understands anyway. I knew he would. He nods and grins again. "We'll go wherever you want."

He leaves and I watch him until he also disappears the same way Sebastian did.

---

Clack. Clack. I slowly step inside, trying not to sway because of my slight inebriation. It was a reasonably early hour, around two in the morning or so. The party ended at twelve, and we had gone to Elle's to have a few drinks. Blaine and Elle had wanted to go out but I declined and opted to go home. Somehow I felt more tired than I should.

The moment I glance at the reception desk, however, the weariness was suddenly replaced by an ill feeling. I now regretted my decision to go home immediately.

Sebastian was seated there, apparently waiting for me.

"Hi again." He stands up, trying to smile.

I don't smile back. The fucker's lucky I don't slit his throat in real life—God knows I was so willing to do it in my dream. "What are you doing here?"

He holds up a box. "Your gift, remember? I promised."

"You promised a lot of things." I answer coldly. "I don't intend to hold you to any of them anymore. I don't need it. I don't need anything from you."

He approaches me. "Kathryn, please take this. I got it for you."

"Give it to Selena."

"It's not Selena's." He insists. "It's yours. It's just yours."

I reach out and place my hand on his chest, stopping him from getting any closer. His eyes strayed to my arm, then back to me. I hate him. I hate that he still looks good after all these years.

_"Kathryn, would you like me to spend the night in your room?" Sebastian murmured._

_"Would you?"_

_He smiled. "Of course I would."_

He takes a hold of my arm, barely blinking from my gaze as his fingers travel to my fingers. He places his hand on top of mine.

"There are no adequate words to apologize for what I've done."

"You've written plenty enough. I don't need to hear any more explanations about it." I take my hand away from him as if his mere skin burned me.

"But you've read it?"

"Yes."

"So you know…" He answers quietly. "You know I couldn't leave her."

His mere presence reminded me of the state I was in when he left. That gaping hole being clawed inside me and the fucked up delusions that I heard his voice when I passed by his room… all of it. He was carrying a fucking whip and damaging me all over again.

"Fuck you, Sebastian." I brush past him and stab the elevator button with my finger, wondering how the fuck longer this will take. He calmly walks and when he places his hand on my shoulder, I decide that I've had enough.

I slap him as hard as I can. I had been itching to do that since I saw him. The loud impact echoes throughout the nearly deserted place and his cheek turns red.

"I was waiting for that." He responds, rubbing his cheek. "So… this Derrick guy—"

"Don't do that." I bark harshly. "You have no right to do that."

"Do what?"

"Ask me questions like that!" I furiously press the button, stomping my feet in frustration. If I didn't wear these fucking heels I would have taken the stairs. Sebastian remains silent. Cautious. He watches me, I want to tear out his mouth and throw it into a trashcan.

"Okay." He says after a brief pause. "I just… I just wanted to talk to you. I know we wouldn't have been able to talk at the party earlier and I thought that maybe if I came here…"

"Let's get one thing straight here, shitface." I interrupt, looking at him with utmost loathing that it would have intimidated any other person. "There is nothing to come back to. There is _no one_ to come back to. You don't owe me anything. I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to hear your fucking voice. It drives me insane. I have a perfectly good life here, and I am not going to let you fuck it up. Let's skip past the pleasantries, Sebastian. I hate you. I don't want you. I don't want anything to do with you. Leave me alone."

"I still care about you." He replies in a low voice. "Very much."

"And I want you to die. I wish you had died that day." I'm trying to keep my temper in check, my fingernails are starting to dig into my palms.

"I'm sorry." He says again.

"Fuck off." I almost screamed with joy as soon as the elevator door opens. I hurriedly step inside and repeatedly press number 14—my floor. Sebastian stops the doors from closing and hurriedly hands me the package. "Get the fuck out of here!"

He does. As soon as the package was in my hands, he steps back. He doesn't leave. He just stands there looking at me until the door closes.

---

It's a small, rectangular box. There is a cream colored envelope with a familiar handwriting that bore my name.

_K,_

_When you don't feel safe, I hope this helps._

_Happy birthday._

_S_

I open it.

It's a framed photograph of my grandfather and me dancing. I don't know how Sebastian got it, where he got it, and who he got it from.

I feel… sick. I place the gift on the table and I hope that it disappears, but somehow I know that it won't. That it's always going to be there and now I'm always going to want to take a look at it.

I turn the stereo on and step into the shower, trying to clear my head. It doesn't help.

Afterwards, I pick up the phone and dial his hotel number.

"Kathryn?" He answers, sounding confused. Then immediately his voice is warm. He has a distinct, hurried and almost impatient way of answering the phone. But when he realizes that it's me, his tone changes.

"Derrick."

"How're you doing?" He asks, pausing. I hear him move, and then he speaks again. "I'm talking to Kathryn, John. Tell Mr. Han I'll be there in a few minutes."

"But—" His business associate argues.

"I'm talking to Kathryn." Derrick repeats, this time his voice is firm. "He will have to wait."

"Am I disturbing?" I ask, yawning.

"Not at all." He assures me. "How was the party, baby?"

I don't think I ever realized how nice his voice was until he left. I sigh a little as soon as I get settled on my bed and he chuckles a little at this.

"Tired?" He murmurs, his voice deep and decidedly very sexy.

"Mhmm. When are you coming back?"

"Soon." He answers. "Miss me?"

"A little." I admit, smiling. "Want to know what else I miss?"

"Do tell."

"Fucking you."

Derrick groans like I am putting him through something painful. "You really want me to come back so bad? You're torturing me, you evil vixen."

"You've been away for so long." I answer, placing a pillow on top of my chest so I can play with the cover.

"Mr. Saxton, they're getting impatient." John's voice interrupts our conversation and I scowl briefly.

"Fine." My boyfriend snaps. "Kathryn, sorry baby but I have to go."

"It's okay. I just wanted to talk to you."

"I'll come back as soon as I can."

I pause. "Promise?"

"Of course I promise." He laughs softly. "Are you drunk?"

"No!"

"Then why are you talking like this?"

"Because I want you to come back already. I'm tired of waiting for you."

"Kathryn," my boyfriend says gently. His voice is warm butter. "What guy in his right mind wouldn't come back to you?"

Good question.

* * *

Hello, dear readers! Today's Update Day! Be nice and leave me something to read. It's only fair, you know. Here I am, toiling away with the story, trying to find ways to make it happen. Share the love. Go on, then. Review:D 

B: I just checked. _When_ would actually work but you're right. _Then_ would have worked better. Thanks.

alexia: Well, when I said English wasn't my first language, I should've added French wasn't it either. But thank you for telling me that you think it's brilliant. Is that what it meant? Haha :D Really? You like Derrick? I don't know. I don't see him as a complex character, really. But then that was what I said about Mathieu and he ended up being a messed up villain so I guess we'll see. Mathieu's that evil guy from Alea Iacta Est.

mariel: I'm glad you like Conner. I promise to give you such a moment like that in this story. And you can hold me to that, I already have a scene in mind anyway.

Kendra: Yes, I haven't heard it enough but you can say that you love this anyway. :D Derrick... hmm... No comment. :D

Erika: Here is another (hopefully) fabuloso update. Kathryn really is pimping it, huh? Three hot boys in New York with her? Lol

Hayakawa: Expect a lot of cliffhangers and misdirections. I like torturing the readers. Haha, yes you're quite greedy. I'll just keep Conner all to myself and let KS have their fun.

rippedjeans: I also hope you're addicted to leaving reviews because I enjoy reading them as much as you enjoy reading this. :D

I'm really very sorry but I have to go study for my midterms now. Everybody else who had reviewed: Celeste, urangel, Kaila, marky, annablake, Sandsagent and StarAngel148, Princess Mel (sorry if I forget anybody)--

There are no adequate words to thank you enough for the support. I really, really mean that.

Till the next one!!


	31. Disrupt

_For that bitchy, mind-fucking blunt ninja--_

_Thanks _

* * *

**Part Two, Chapter 4: Disrupt**

**disrupt disˈrəpt dɪsˌrəpt dɪsˌrʌpt**

**verb [ trans. **

**interrupt (an event, activity, or process) by causing a disturbance or problem **

**• drastically alter or destroy the structure of (something)**

_I cannot pretend that I felt any regret_

_'Cause each broken heart will eventually mend_

_As the blood runs red down the needle and thread_

_Someday you will be loved._

-"Someday You Will Be Loved" by Death Cab for Cutie

One week later— 

"Kathryn, do you have the Sony file with you? I've been looking for it and—" Elle stops speaking as I hold out a folder, interrupting her. Her eyes squint and she scrutinizes me, wrinkling her nose. "Are you in a good mood?"

"You say that like it's so hard to believe." I answer breezily, smiling.

"Well, it is. Just last week you were raising hell here. I actually wanted to offer my practice room but you looked like you were going to bite my head off so I stayed out of the way." Elle shrugs, stepping into my office. Her slim calves flexed as she takes a seat in front of me. "So, let's have it. Why are you in a good mood?"

"Because Derrick's back."

"Oooh. The boyfriend's back. Have you turned into one of those giggling women? The ones that just melt into a puddle when their oohlala oh so handsome wealthy entrepreneur boyfriend comes back after four months of being away?"

Her teasing voice made me scowl. "Don't be disgusting, Elle."

"Ah, there's the expression I've come to know." She replies, standing up with a satisfied grin. "Tell him hello for me."

"Are you still lusting after him?"

"He's Derrick. His exes generally still lust after him." My friend remarks, shrugging. "But don't worry. I'm over that, really. I have no plans to seduce him or anything of the sort. This isn't high school. Besides, I respect you enough not to do that."

"So… if I were like one of those pathetic women we laugh at, you'd still be fucking him?"

"Why not? He's hot. That man is so talented with his hands, has he done that thing where he rubs—"

"Elle!" I make a face. "We discussed this. No details."

"Well, will you tell me one thing at least?"

"What?" I ask suspiciously, bothered by the curious look in her light colored eyes.

"You and Conner." She replies. "How long?"

"Me and Conner? Nothing's going on."

Elle rolls her eyes. "Please. He has a wife and he spends all his time with you. Tell me nothing's going on."

"Nothing's going on." I stand up, avoiding her gaze. Thankfully, my phone rings.

"Yes?"

"Kathryn, I can't leave the office right now. Something's come up."

"Like?" My good mood immediately vanishes. I hear papers rustling. "Derrick?"

"What? Sorry. I was just… right. Here it is. Fuck. I'd better call Conner."

"What's going on?"

"Edward Valmont just died."

Edward's dead. That meant one thing.

"Who gets his company?" I ask, dreading the answer my boyfriend was about to give.

"His son." We both hear a beep and he immediately talks. He apologizes and puts me on hold for a few minutes.

"Fuck." I curse. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"What is it?"

"Edward just died."

"So?"

"So that little asshole Sebastian's going to be back again for the funeral."

Derrick's voice fills my ears before Elle can reply. "Kathryn, Conner's on his way here in a few hours. We're going to have to do some damage control, investors are pulling out and I'm looking over their files right now, I know Sebastian's your stepbrother so—"

"Contrary to what you may think, I don't give a fuck about Sebastian. How's Conner?"

"He's in a pretty bad shape. His company's taking a beating, we're having a meeting right now with—"

"I'll be there."

"But, Kathryn I don't think that's a…."

"I'm going to be there." I emphasize this more slowly, my tone hardening.

Derrick relents, like I knew he would. Being the owner and president of a PR company, they were in charge of all the Valmont businesses. This was bad. If Sebastian were to inherit everything, then in all likelihood he was going to have to work closely with Derrick as well. I just hope I'm wrong.

---

"Where is he?"

His secretary points to the double doors that led to his office. I gave her a fake smile and made my way to the room, only to find my boyfriend in deep conversation with Conner. They were seated beside each other and despite the grim circumstances of Edward's death, I can't help but feel elated that I had at last finally seen my boyfriend. He looks handsome, as always, although I can clearly see the dark circles under his eyes. He broke out into a similar smile and stood up, his blue eyes resting on me.

Conner was looking at me as well. I kiss his cheek first and he squeezes my hand, his firm grip warm and comfortable. Like always. And then I step into Derrick's waiting arms, allowing him to hold me for a while. This man is all mine. I don't have to share him with a wife and I never had to share him with a bizarre girlfriend I had only seen once. Unlike some Valmont men I knew.

"Missed you." He says quietly in my ear.

"Stay at my place tonight?" I whisper back and he nods, smiling.

I was completely basking in that glow until I heard an annoying sound.

"Yes, well this is all very touching but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to continue with this meeting." A dry, sarcastic voice interrupted us and my smile fades. It was too late to wish that Sebastian's plane would crash. Damn.

I turn around and sure enough, he was seated in front of us. He was glaring at me. I was glaring back.

"Why don't you go fuck—"

"Myself?" Sebastian interrupts, smirking. "Can't you come up with something different? You've overused that one long enough."

I instinctively grab the fountain pen resting on the table and grip it tightly. "How about if I stabbed your neck right now? That's something different, won't you agree?"

Conner places his hand on mine and gently takes away the pen. His touch makes me look at him and he shakes his head slightly. Derrick seems tense.

"I'm sorry." I tell them both, calming down.

"Don't worry about it." Sebastian replies, checking his watch.

"I wasn't talking to you, asshole."

"Derrick, would you please put a muzzle on her or something? As a bitch I know she bites a lot."

Red and black. Temper rising. That pen belonged in his throat. Can't I just send it home by stabbing him right now? I'm sure Conner and Derrick would collaborate with my story and I wouldn't go to jail.

"How dare—" I begin but Derrick beats me to it.

His dark blue eyes flash dangerously and his fists clench. "Mr. Valmont, I respect you and I would really rather not beat the shit out of you right now. Please refrain from talking like that about my girlfriend again."

Girlfriend. Somehow this surprises him, because he frowns slightly and glances at Conner, then at me. He rests his arms on the table and sighs, obviously not planning to continue arguing.

"Fine." Sebastian says. "Let's just get this meeting over with."

The tense moment is somehow broken and I take a seat next to Derrick, still silently seething at the asshole's nerve to say things like that to me.

"As I was saying, there have been a lot of investors pulling out of your father's companies, Mr. Valmont. Sebastian." Derrick adds, poring over the figures. "Apparently due to the mental breakdown you've experienced five years ago—"

Wait. What did he just say? Mental what?

Sebastian visibly looks uncomfortable. He tugs his tie. "Can we not talk about that?" He asks tersely. "That's irrelevant."

"As Edward's son you have the responsibility of keeping a clean image for the company. I hardly think that crashing your car into a lamppost is irrelevant. They think you're unfit to handle things, that's why they're leaving."

"Why did you have a mental breakdown?" I snicker, enjoying Sebastian's agitation. "Things not going well with the equally mentally challenged significant other?"

"Does she have to be here?" Sebastian growls, clenching and unclenching his fist.

"Yes, but you don't. So if you wouldn't mind, you can just get the fuck out of New York and never come back." I answer cattily.

His eyes burn into me, as though communicating something. His expression changes. It looks pained and soft, like that night he left me.

_ "Kathryn?"_

_ "Die. Just die."_

_ Click._

"The phone call." I gasp, my mouth dropping open. "The phone call, Sebastian." 

Sebastian slips back into bastard mode and he sneers in contempt. "Stop being such a jealous cow, Kathryn. I left. Big fucking deal. It's not like you had any trouble coping."

_"Don't ever leave me." I said before I had the time to process it. "Say it. Say you won't. It'll just be us, like always."_

_He closed his eyes and I wanted to take his tongue and form the words for him._

_"Say it." I hated how my voice quavered. "You have to say it. It was never supposed to go this far, but now it has. I need to hear you say it. Promise me or I'll hurt you. I'll hurt her too. You know that I will, Sebastian."_

_He opened his eyes. "Conner's back in New York."_

"You have no fucking idea what my life was like!" 

"And you have no idea what mine was like so stop being such a fucking hag about it! Do you think I wanted to—" Sebastian suddenly stops talking and finally directs his gaze to Conner and Derrick.

"Yes, I think you wanted to!" My voice rises. "You fucking wanted to! There was never anybody forcing you and you know it!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Derrick demands. Conner remains silent.

The chair makes a screeching sound as Sebastian suddenly stands up. His jaw muscles clench and unclench. "I have to make the arrangements for my father's funeral. Please just call me when you're ready to have a real meeting, and next time I'd prefer it if we kept my stepsister out of it. She has nothing to do with this matter."

"Yes. Leave." I remark bitterly. "You're great at that."

He stops walking for a moment but then he leaves anyway. As the door shuts, I glare at the now empty chair. Derrick puts his arm around me and draws me close, rubbing my back.

"What was that about?" He asks softly.

Conner and I exchange glances. I wanted to say nothing to him, to keep him completely oblivious and sheltered from the complications of my life. The knowledge would completely fuck up this ideal arrangement I had with them. Derrick would understandably be more apprehensive of the time I spent with Conner, and if made to choose, I didn't want to have to consider such things. How do you ever tell your boyfriend that you have this inexplicable thing with his business partner and close friend, and that even when I was a kid I had in some way or another wanted Conner (and that as I grew up, we eventually had an affair and fucked a lot of times)? Furthermore, how do you really tell your perfect boyfriend that six years ago, you were fucking your stepbrother and that even before that, you had already done a lot of twisted, sexual and immoral things to each other?

Conner shakes his head but then eventually shrugs, as though leaving the decision to me.

I gaze into Derrick's eyes. He looks hurt and confused. I run my hands through his dark hair and lean in to kiss him. To make him ever forget questioning everything, because if he knew everything then he might not look at me the same way again. Then I sneak a glance at Conner, who has remained silent all throughout the confrontation. I can't lose him. Not after all he's done for me over the years.

"Nothing." I smile complacently. "It's just nothing. A petty, childish agreement ages ago."

"That's not it." Derrick blinks, and then narrows his eyes. "It didn't sound petty. Please don't lie to me, Kathryn."

_"What I'm saying is simple…" Sebastian reached across the table and his thumb caressed my palm briefly, just long enough for it to bring me a sense of comfort and short enough for people not to notice._

_"I'm fucked up, too. In my own way."_

_"I already know that."_

_"No… I mean… there are some things about me you don't know. I'm fucked up in other ways, Kate. Just understand that. It's not something I like talking about."_

I have no idea why Sebastian's words keep coming back to my head. Fucking monsters. Nevertheless, I take them and make them my own. It's the only way to explain things without lying to Derrick. "There are some things about me you don't know." 

"Apparently." Derrick looks perturbed and he kisses my palm.

"I'm fucked up in certain ways. Please try to understand, it's not something I like talking about."

"But you'll tell me soon?"

Conner watches me carefully.

"Maybe." I hate Sebastian for doing this. His mere presence threatened to disrupt everything stable and good in my life.

---

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Mother's practiced sobs grate my ears and despite my annoyance, I try to keep a somber face. I look around, the turnout for Edward's funeral was to be expected. Philandering aside, he was a good man. He never tried to fuck me or anything, which was really more than I can say for Mother's other boyfriends, at least the ones I've seen while she was still with Edward. Derrick places a conciliatory hand on my waist and I nod up at him, glad that he was already back. Conner was with his wife.

I glance at Sebastian, but his face was unreadable. I didn't know if he was ever close to Edward. There were a lot of things I didn't know about him.

The priest continues but I know we aren't listening. We were never really religious. Derrick takes my hand as we sit down and his thumb rubs my knuckles absentmindedly.

A black car pulls up and Sebastian briefly glances at it. He recognizes it somehow. He stands up and heads towards the car. I don't think I need to guess who was inside at this point. Of course. She just had to be late. She just had to make everybody look at her.

I watch as my stepbrother (was he still my stepbrother though?) reaches her. She exits the car, her black hair was longer and softer looking than I'd remembered. Paris had done her well. Sebastian lowers his head and she murmurs something to him. He kisses her. I look away.

They head back to the rows of chairs. Selena takes the seat beside him. Her expression is similar to his. Slowly, her head leans against his shoulder until it rests there. Her fingers tangle with his.

We stand up later as the casket gets lowered. Sebastian looks down at his father. His jaw clenches and unclenches again. It is clear that she also notices this because she whispers something in his ear. I watch her little thin mouth form the words. 'I love you.'.

Everybody fucking loves everybody.

He turns to her and nods, smiling slightly.

But then…

Then he seems to sense that I was watching him. I soon find myself staring into his eyes.

Somehow I see him again. See him for the boy he was before everything else. Flashes fill my head, bits of memories and conversations that I didn't know I remembered.

He shifts again. Pained. Alone. Remorseful. Confused. My seventeen-year-old Sebastian.

_ "I'm going to yell at you and say something insulting, then you're going to reply with something equally scathing." I helped myself to a glass of wine while he stood there quietly. "We're going to sleep in different rooms, but then one of us will go and apologize. In all likelihood, it's going to be you. You're going to slip under the covers with me and I'll let you. We might fuck, or we might just actually sleep. That's how it's going to be, but I'm too tired to take the route tonight. Let's cut through the bullshit right now and instead of saying things we don't mean, I'll say something that I do mean. I wish I never felt this way about you."_

_ He looked at me blankly, before the weight of my words settled on him. He held out his hand. "Come here."_

_ I shook my head, "Come back."_

Come here. Come back. Come back. Come back. The words echo in my head persistently. Pathetic requests from an equally pathetic seventeen-year-old girl who knew nothing. I wanted to silence that voice, to wrap my fingers around its neck and push my thumbs into its throat. Die. Just die. 

The service ends and everybody starts filing out. People come up to us to offer their condolences, and perhaps to keep up appearances, Sebastian gives Mother a brief hug. We've done this for so long now that it seems inherent and wrong not to act like we were a family.

Sebastian comes up to me and I automatically nod in acknowledgment. I place a hand on his arm and try to act civil. "I'm sorry." My voice sounds controlled and polite enough.

He surprises me by pulling me into a hug. For a while I stay frozen, but then the warm, secure hardness of his body dulls any instinct to push him away. He holds me tightly; as though this was the first time we've seen each other in six years when in fact we've had a lot of angry run-ins. His scent attacks my nostrils and floods my head.

Selena watches us quietly, yet there wasn't a trace of suspicion or malice in her eyes. It figures. He would protect her from anything.

"I'm sorry for coming back." He whispers in my ear, holding tighter in case I wanted to struggle. "I'm sorry for ruining things. I can't help it. I have to be here, but I'll try, Kathryn. Really, I will. I just want you to be happy."

"Let go of me then." I reply, swallowing thickly.

_"It's still true, you know."_

_"What is, Sebastian?" I asked, distracted._

_I was too busy formulating some sort of excuse to Conner when Sebastian said something that completely blew everything out of proportion._

_"That being inside you is the best feeling in the world. I don't care if it didn't mean anything. It's still true."_

He does. 

"I hate you."

"I know."

"I hate her, too."

"You shouldn't."

"It would be easier to believe that she's forcing you, but she isn't, is she? It was your decision."

"Yes." He looks down at his shoes. "It was mine."

"I should have never let it get that far… but you played it well." I clear my throat to keep my voice from shaking. "Congratulations. You've won everything there is to win."

"Or I've lost everything there is to lose." Sebastian answers, glancing at the now lowered casket. "It depends on how you see it."

"I'd rather not see it at all."

"Do you know what this means, Kathryn? Now that Dad's gone?" Sebastian looks at me, frowning. Like he's torn about something.

"Yes. Yes, I think I do."

He closes his eyes, smiling wistfully. "We're free now."

I stay silent, absorbing his words. The irony of it, the stupidity and the timing of everything made me laugh.

"Yes. We _are_ free, aren't we?" I remark, watching his handsome face. Noticing his pink, full mouth. Remembering how he tasted like, how he felt just at that precise moment before he came. How he would shudder. How I'd feel at the knowledge that I made him so powerless at that point. "It's six years too late."

He opens his eyes. I don't open my mouth. 

Nothing else can be said.

* * *

A/N: Damn glorious angst. 

Mariel: Very good, you're noticing the little phrases that have double meanings in my chapters. You're right, I did that on purpose. ☺

Annablake: Thank you. Once again. :D I'm glad you think so. I've had loads of practice before this, thankfully I've improved since my first story.

Erika: No problem on the reviews. I do enjoy reading your story.

Alexia: Well you can tell me again and again anyway. I don't mind. Haha. :D The fighting comes later on, be patient. ☺

Jenni-phurr: ..and more angst to come!

Nosensitivity: I also wish the movie was exactly like this… then I'd have loads of money for being the scriptwriter. Haha. :D

Kendra: _"but I don't WANT to hate her because something is seriously wrong or...something...judging by the way Sebastian talks. Go figure."_

…exactly.

This is the point where you say "Huh? What do you mean?"

I can't comment on that, but I'm glad you feel that way.

B: Go to sleep. Wait, review first and then go to sleep. :D

Everybody else, thank you so much for your nice reviews. I'm really too tired to enumerate each fabulous name but you know that I really, really, really do appreciate it, yes?

More than you could possibly ever really comprehend.

This is the part where I say bye and until the next chapter!


	32. Time

**Part Two, Chapter Five: Time**

**time tīm taɪm tʌɪm  
noun  
1 the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole  
• the progress of this as affecting people and things**

_It could be worse  
I could be alone  
I could be locked in here on my own  
Like a stone that suddenly drops  
It never stops, no_

_I could be lost  
Or I could be saved  
Calling out from beneath the waves  
Beaten down by this ocean rain  
Never again  
Never again_

-"Crests of Waves" by Coldplay

The following is Sebastian's account of the various events that had transpired in the Rosemond Estate and the day of his departure, as included in the black notebook.

(Date unwritten)

_It's getting far worse than I had anticipated._

_My life is getting fucked up. What the hell am I even doing right now?_

_Selena. Kathryn. There was never supposed to be any hesitation. I just had to fuck Kathryn and get it over with. This fixation was supposed to end after Colombia. Kathryn's beautiful. There's no denying that. But it's Selena… and I promised. Fuck._

_Kathryn's sleeping beside me. She's been my girlfriend for a while now, or as she liked to call it, my 'non girlfriend'. It's funny how something unbelievably stupid like that sounded nice after she'd suggested it. She even calls me her 'non boyfriend'. "Hello, non boyfriend." "Goodnight, non boyfriend."_

_It's endearing, really. It makes me smile every time I hear it from her. I don't think she notices though. Good. She has enough power over me as it is._

_She just told me to put the 'fucking journal' away. Despite her semi-conscious state, her voice still doesn't lose its edge. She tucked her feet under the covers. Now she's kind of cuddling against me. Funny. I never really pegged her as a cuddler. I had usually thought more along the lines of how she'll push you off the bed and keep the blankets to herself._

_"Cold." She murmured sleepily, her eyebrows moving to form a crease on her forehead. Her voice sounds softer now._

_"Do you need me to do anything?" I asked, kissing her forehead. I couldn't help it. She looked too damn beautiful to be left alone like that, even when she was asleep._

_"Hmm… no. Just don't leave or anything. You're warm enough."_

_"For your ice cold heart, princess? I'm never warm enough."_

_I was rewarded by a halfhearted slap on my arm, causing me to chuckle. One sleepy green eye opened and squinted against the dim lamplight._

_"Don't be a prick, Sebastian. I'd hit you some more but I'm too tired."_

_"Sorry." I slipped my arm underneath her and pulled her to me, causing my journal to shift. The pages flipped automatically, and a photo stared up at me. Selena. I'm sorry. What do you want me to do? Is this bad? Don't you know I'm coming back to you anyway?_

_"That's better." Kathryn replied, smiling sleepily._

_I nuzzled her neck, kissing that spot just below her ear. "I could love you." I said again, meaning it._

_"Mmm? What'd you say?"_

_"Nothing. Go to sleep. Sweet dreams, you bitch."_

_"Goodnight, you bastard."_

_Minutes passed. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep. She even moved away a little, and then turned her back on me. I don't know if this was a sign of the things to come, but at this rate it's more of a certainty now._

_I spoke to Greta earlier. She said that things had been progressing, and that soon, Selena will be back. Ben wants for her to come live with him in Paris. It's just like she wanted._

_Are we really held accountable for a single choice we make, even when we don't realize its gravity?_

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm going to fuck Kathryn up and I don't want to. I wish she'd just cheat on me. It would make things so much easier. I wish she'd tell me to fuck off, or realize that this whole being exclusive thing was just wrong. Sometimes I even wish she'd just go back to Conner. Why not? He would be better for her._

_At least he's back. When I have to leave, he'll be there. He'll be able to stay with her._

_Kathryn told me this earlier: "I wish I never felt this way about you."_

_She doesn't understand. That's how I feel about her, too._  
---

"Mmph." I turn my head, tilting my chin to glance at Derrick's face. I poked his cheek, feeling the bone underneath. The structure of his face was finely detailed, not as smooth as Conner's, but he was still very handsome. His dark hair was getting too long though, and strands of it keep getting in his deep-set blue eyes.

"What was that?" He asks, smiling sleepily.

"I said it's bad for you to leave beautiful, successful and powerful women like me for four months. Sometimes women like that get very horny and then who's going to cater to that need?"

"Mmm… well I think this," He takes my wrist and grins mischievously. "might suffice until then."

I squint and then slowly grin, biting my lower lip. "Oh, you're having fun imagining me masturbate, aren't you Mr. Saxton?"

"It is very fun thinking of that, yes." He kisses the tip of my finger before nibbling on it.

"Who knew Derrick Saxton, multimillionaire, actually has a very dirty and imaginative mind?"

"You'd be surprised." He growls, reaching for me. "Let me show you how dirty I can get."

"But I'm still tired—"

"Really?" He murmurs, kissing his way down to my breasts. I groan and fist his hair, caressing the muscles of his back. He doesn't stop. He makes his way downwards.

"Reall…oh fuck."

"Mhmm." He licks his lips, grinning in satisfaction. "You were saying?"

"Not… fair…"

"It never is." He agrees, eagerly devouring me.

I really am tired, but I let him win anyway.

---

_Sebastian is gone. He's not coming back. Get it through your head, Kathryn. He. Left._

_It's fucking done. What did Caesar say about that? The die is cast? Alea iacta est? Latin, right?  
_

_Why did that sound familiar? Who told me that? Mathieu, during one of our talks? Or was it his blonde counterpart?  
_

_Sebastian's stupid notebook was on my bed, opened to a page whose story I can't seem to decipher. Maybe I didn't want to. For the past two days, it seemed as though he had written them directly on my brain. Etched there with a fountain pen until I started to bleed._

_Selena. Accident. He promised her. Scars. Screams. Nightmares. Eight when they met. Things were fine. He didn't know what he'd done to her at first, but when he did, he felt compelled to make things right. But then it went beyond that. He loved her. They were inseparable. Then it began. She got sick. She was slipping. They both knew it, but he didn't want to go. Where do you draw the line between guilt and love?_

_There was never supposed to be anyone else. There was Annette, but then that never lasted. He always came back to her. There was me. He left me too._

_He'd wait. He said it himself; he'd wait for her._

_Fuck you both._

_A knock makes me look up._

_"Kathryn?" Soft, deep voice. Conner._

_"Come in."_

_He pushed the double doors open and stepped inside. "Hello."_

_"Make me a drink?"_

_He hesitated, his eyes scanning the room. It was still meticulously kept, like always. I had the servants remove all the broken vases earlier. He didn't speak as he made his way to the bar to make my drink._

_I took the notebook and put it away, coming up from behind him. I slipped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back. He stopped moving. I heard the ice tinkling as he placed the glass down._

_He started to turn around._

_"Don't." I told him, hearing him breathing as I continued to press my cheek against him. "Just give me a minute to be like this."_

_Conner stayed limp obediently. Wonderful, caring Conner. Make it better._

_"Okay." I said after a while. "You can move now."_

_He turned around and looked at me, his head tilting down. He kissed my forehead, his lips were cool and dry._

_"Sometimes I kick myself for letting you go." He sighed. "Apparently stupidity runs in the family."_

_I laughed. But then I went on for longer than it normally should. My laughter comes in loud, unnatural bursts. I couldn't stop. His joke had triggered something inside me._

_Conner shook his head, his eyes were still sad. He tried to pull me in a hug but I grabbed his face and kissed him. I think I bit him because I felt him instinctively pull away, but I didn't stop. His hands wandered all over my body and underneath my blouse, fondling my breasts. Missed this. Missed him._

_"Fuck me." I gasped as we made our way to the bed. "Do it. I don't care about anything anymore."_

_He stopped. I felt the air on my mouth as he disentangled himself from me. "No. Not like this."_

_"What?"_

_"I said not like this." He repeated, straightening his clothes. "Not when you're like this. It's not right."_

_"Get out." I snarl, glaring at him._

_"Kathryn, wait…"_

_"I'M NOT WAITING FOR ANYBODY ANYMORE! GET THE FUCK OUT!"_

---

"Derrick?" I call out, stepping into his place. I place the keys back in my bag and follow the murmuring voices, looking for him.

Bad move.

Two pairs of blue eyes and one pair of black ones glance back at me as soon as I peek in his office. Conner. Sebastian. Derrick.

You have got to be kidding me.

"Hi." Derrick is the only one who smiles. I envy his ignorance. He's completely oblivious to the tension. "I'm sorry, were we supposed to do something today?"

"You said to drop by… we were going to that art exhibit, remember?" I coolly glance at Sebastian as though he was a nuisance. "I didn't know you had a meeting. Why are you having it here?"

"They were remodeling the office and I had so many files in my computer here so I figured it'd be—"

"Slightly unprofessional, in my opinion." Sebastian cuts in dryly.

I give him the finger.

"Real mature, Kathryn. Glad to see you've grown up."

"Glad to see you haven't changed at all. You're still a rude, insensitive bastard. Do you have any idea how busy Derrick is? You should be so fucking lucky that he's even accommodating your mentally incapacitated ass in the first place."

"Please, guys. Can't we just—" Conner intercedes.

"What, Conner? Can't we all just get along? Shut up." Sebastian directs his glare at me, his anger starting to show. "You know what? Just go fuck her—"

"Stop!" I yell at him furiously. "Don't you fucking dare say that!"

"Can't you two be in the same room without fighting?" Derrick barks and we look at him. If only he knew what Sebastian was about to say.

"Apparently not. Kathryn and I have always been close. It must be because of all the fu—"

"Shut the fuck up, Sebastian. I mean it. I'm really going to stab you if you don't."

"Oh? You mean…" His blue eyes go from me, to Derrick, to Conner, and then back at me again. He starts laughing quietly. "…no idea? About anything? About…" He looks at Conner. "Or…?" His eyes widen, obviously referring to himself.

I give him a stony glare.

He chuckles again. "Fucking priceless. I have to hand it to you, Kathryn. You do know how to make things interesting."

"You stupid, fucking bast—"

"Kate, come on. We can talk about this, outside, okay?" Conner gently takes my arm, his full mouth mouthing a silent plea.

As we are safely in the hall, I cross my arms defiantly. "He deserves everything I have to say, Conner. You know that."

"Be careful. Derrick's with us, you know that if he finds out about…" He pauses. "About everything, about us, you know it'll never be like it was before."

"He's just fucking ruining things." I mutter darkly. "He should have never gone back."

"That may be so, but as of right now you have to deal with it, okay? Don't let him win." Conner ducks his head to peer closer at me, trying to get me to smile. "I promise to try to make this meeting brief. Derrick's been looking forward to spending more time with you anyway."

"Yeah, yeah." I grumble.

"Okay, Kathryn? Just wait for a few minutes, he'll be along."

"Fine."

"That's what I wanted to hear." He cups my cheek and kisses me. I respond after a while, trapping my lips against his. It was always nice kissing Conner.

"Have fun." I call out sourly.

---

I had been busy sending emails through my BlackBerry when I heard something.

Footsteps. Finally they were done. It took them long enough.

Assuming it was Derrick, I start talking.

"I hate being kept waiting, Derrick. You should have known that."

"I do know that." Came a deep, amused voice. "But I'm not Derrick."

"Oh, great." I look up and watch as my former stepbrother smirks at me. "It's the spawn of Satan back from Hell."

"That's callous, seeing as how my father just died." Sebastian retorts. "I was just looking for the kitchen. Would you be so nice as to tell me where it is so I can get a drink and not have to argue with you?

I roll my eyes. "Down the hall, turn right, and then take another left."

Sebastian stares at me for a while, carefully scrutinizing my expression. Then he smiles. "That would make it down the hall, turn left, and make a right."

"How the hell did you know that?" I ask, dumbfounded. I had been hoping he'd end up lost.

"There's a barely noticeable change that goes on in your eyes when you lie. It's like… it's like when you watch a play that you really like. Your eyes seem brighter somehow, and you're completely open to things. When you lie, it's like you build an extra wall around you. You close yourself more than ever, because you don't want people to know you're lying." Sebastian shrugs casually. "The way you look at them—your boyfriend and Conner— it's a little like that. Your eyes light up. When you look at me, behind all that hostility, I just seem to reach a thick, granite wall. You're hiding from me most of the time."

There is a pregnant pause.

Sebastian grins again. "Anyway, I better go. Thanks for the directions."

It doesn't take him long to return. I was bored out of my skull, surfing through channels even though I wasn't a TV person. Sebastian places a glass in front of me and sits down, his fingers drumming against his thigh. I watch his hand for a few quiet moments, wondering what the hell he was doing here. I direct my glance to the drink he'd brought me.

"Vodka. Three ice cubes. ¾ filled. You used to ask me to make it for you when you're having a bad day… I guess today counts as a bad day. Being with me, having me around... you know?"

"And… do you honestly expect me to drink that?"

"Kathryn, I'm trying here."

"I'm supposed to bend over backwards and let you fuck with me again? Better yet, I'm supposed to bend over backwards and let you fuck me again?"

"I just don't think it's reasonable for us to be like this around each other, that's all." He leans back comfortably, scratching his head. His eyes beckon to me, drawing me in. Weaving his spell, as he'd done many times before. He scratches his cheek. There is a hint of a beard on his jaw and I quell the impulse to touch it. Having Sebastian grow a beard was strange to me. I think I had always seen him as clean cut and perfect. "Look, I'm going to be working closely with Derrick and Conner. That's a given. I'm going to be around a lot. If we keep going at it like this, it'll make things harder, okay? I get it, Kate—"

"Do not call me Kate." I reply coldly.

"I'm just saying," he takes a sip of his drink and places it on the glass table beside mine. "we can try to be civil around each other. Besides, Derrick obviously has no idea of our history and you don't want him to know. I don't want him to know either, as much as possible I want you to be-"

"Happy?"

"I just want you to be okay."

"I _am_ okay, Sebastian."

"Okay, but can you just… can we just try? I don't want to have to fight with you every time."

"Friends?" I ask sarcastically, laughing.

"I didn't say that." Sebastian replies quietly. He idly plays with his tie. "The more we act like this, the more he's bound to know. You have your reasons for not telling him about Conner and me and I respect that. I told you I didn't want to ruin things for you."

I didn't like it. I didn't like how his voice sounded and how soft it was. I didn't like seeing the illusion that he cared, because the bastard never really did. I didn't like how rational he was and how he made sense. Most of all, I didn't like the fact that he was right.

"Fine." I answer, reaching out to take the glass as an instinct before I realize he's watching me. I take my hand back.

I hear him chuckle to himself, sighing before he gets the vodka. He stares at me as he takes a sip of it. He holds the glass out, offering me to try it.

"See? Nothing in it. I swear." Inadvertently his leg brushes against mine.

I take the glass from him and drink. The vodka's momentary sting down my throat lulls me, and for a moment there I _almost_ feel comfortable with Sebastian.

"Great. This is progress." He nods to himself, grinning charmingly. "Good."

"In the spirit of all this candor, can I ask what the hell happened when you had that supposed mental breakdown? Did you really mean to wrap your car around that lamppost?"

He loses his smile. "I had trouble adjusting then."

"I told you to take up French, didn't I? If you hadn't fucked our French professor then maybe you could've learned something."

"No. I meant being without you. Being with Selena again, taking care of her, being worried about her. There were so many things happening all at the same time."

"Whatever." I drink again, watching the TV. "Won't they come looking for you?"

Sebastian shakes his head, shrugging. "I don't know. They probably think you've murdered me or something."

"That's certainly a possibility."

"Bitch."

"Fuckwit."

"Whore."

"Suicidal moron." I finish my drink, licking my lips.

"Want a refill?"

"No, it's okay. I might get drunk and kill you."

He laughs again and the silence eventually melts the tension. He places his hands on his stomach, his gaze fixed on the movie. I sneak glances at him, from up close he isn't as young as he seemed anymore. He looks tired now.

"Hey, Sebastian?"

"Hmm?"

"It wasn't your fault. The accident. Children can't get blamed for things like that."

His entire body tenses. His fingers, formerly relaxed, not tighten their grip against each other. He closes his eyes for a long time the way he did at the funeral. It's like he's trying to fall asleep or completely disappear.

"You didn't know."

"Can we not?" He murmurs, looking at me pleadingly. "Please? Let's not do this."

"Why? It doesn't seem fair to do it. To free you. I shouldn't want to, because I want you to suffer. I want you to continue having your fucked up nightmares about car crashes and four bloody bodies lying still. I want you to hear her crying for her mom especially when you're fucking her and looking into her innocent eyes. I want you to remember that you've taken so much from her and she doesn't even know it."

"Kathryn, stop." Now his voice is hard and rough, like he wants to grab me and drag me somewhere.

"But you see, I do want to free you. When I do that, then you'll realize that you've lost me. Only then will you truly feel the extent of that. You won't have Selena to numb anything. There can be no justification to hide behind, no tragic sob story of why you had to leave."

"I'm not talking about this right now." Sebastian stands up, averting his eyes from my penetrating stare.

"No. You'll listen to me. You left me once without letting me talk to you. I'm not letting that happen again." I stand up as well, gripping his arm tightly. "Face me, you fucking coward. I've waited a long time for this."

A low growl escapes his throat, grabbing my shoulders to force me away. I tilt my chin defiantly, daring him to continue. Take that fucking whip out and hurt me again. Scrape me raw like you once did. Fuck you, brother.

"It's not your fault." I repeat, enjoying the cringe on his face. "Your mother forgives you. You've given Selena so much—"

"Don't you dare say her name again!" He cries loudly, banging me against the nearby display case that houses a few antiques.

"Selena Wade. Car crash survivor. Her mother protected her after your mother rammed her car against theirs. That whole dying of a heart attack thing was fabricated, right? They couldn't identify the body anymore because her entire face was torn off after she broke her neck. You were on the phone with her, you told me about it through that stupid journal you left. You were screaming at her, telling her she was a bad mother. Making her cry and drink. You knew she was having problems. You fucking knew it, didn't you? You egged her on, you were a sadistic little boy, weren't you, Sebastian?" I run my tongue across my teeth, grinning.

His fist comes crashing against the glass case and I jump away from it, automatically colliding with him. He gets thrown off balance from my weight and his other hand reaches out, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep us both from falling.

"But that's just it." I lean against him, biting his earlobe even though my heart now pounded wildly. "You were a sadistic little _boy_. A boy, Valmont. That's different. You didn't mean it."

A bloody hand pushes me away. "Get away from me."

"I'm already away from you, Sebastian." I glance as Conner and Derrick come rushing in, their faces alarmed. They quickly notice Sebastian's injured hand, then my blood stained blouse from when he pushed me away. Derrick's blue eyes narrow into dangerous slits and he crosses the room quickly. Wordlessly he grabs Sebastian's neck, throwing him down.

He crumples to the floor without a fight.

"Don't you fucking hit her!" My boyfriend starts kicking him repeatedly and for a while I did nothing to correct his assumption. There's too much to see at that point, at Sebastian's blank face, at his glass encrusted wound, and at the fact that eventually his eyes close.

_"I miss Selena." He continued. "I miss her and she misses me, Kathryn. I want to come see her because—"_

_"Who's Selena?" I asked suspiciously, no longer indulging in his morphine high._

_"I miss her a lot, especially now. I'm alone and it's cold and my leg kind of hurts."_

_"Who the fuck is Selena, Sebastian?"_

_He wasn't listening to me. He was off in Lala land now, completely oblivious to the fact that he was starting to piss me off._

_"I love her so much. I wish she never left. She left and she's never coming back. I wish I was there, I wish I could have stopped everything."_

_"Who is she?"_

_"It's my fault, you know? It's my fault she's gone."_

"She's asleep right now… I used to sleep beside her you know. She has horrible nightmares and she'd wake up crying, clinging on to me like I could save her… I never could…"

He sounded so sad I wanted to go visit him just to see what he looked like at the moment. I had never really heard him like that before.

"I could save you too, right? I'm always saving you… Always worrying and thinking about you."

"Conner, do something!" 

My voice seems to shake Conner out of his stupor and immediately he restrains Derrick.

"Are you okay?" My boyfriend asks me through gritted teeth, snarling at Sebastian.

I nod.

"Get the fuck out!" Derrick yells furiously. "NOW!"

Sebastian starts coughing as he clutches his stomach, doubling over in pain. He deserves to be hurt. He deserves to bleed and just die. He doesn't seem to hear Derrick. He only stares at me, as though waiting for me to say it.

"You heard him." I answer quietly, standing beside Derrick. "Get out."

"Tell them first. Tell them I didn't hit you, that I never would." Sebastian stands up, cringing. He takes out the pieces of glass embedded in his hand and then wraps his handkerchief around the wound. "You have to let them know that, Kathryn. Tell them I'd never hurt you."

"But I'd be lying."

A bitter laugh escapes his throat and he looks at me with disgust. "No, you wouldn't! I would never fucking hit you!"

"Who said I was talking about that?"

He stops talking, his mouth slightly open. Conner tries to escort him out of the room but Sebastian shrugs his cousin's hand away. Without looking back, he walks out. His head was held high and his bleeding hand stained the handkerchief that now served as a crude tourniquet.

As Derrick tries to comfort me, I notice that some of Sebastian's blood has seeped through his suit.

"Change." I suddenly bark, my fingers quick with unbuttoning his shirt. Derrick looks at me like I've snapped because eventually I shove him into the bedroom, ignoring Conner. "You have his blood on you. Get that off now, I don't like it. It's dirty. He's fucking tainting you."

"Kathryn, what the fuck is going on here?"

"Get this off!" I rip his tie away, my nerves jumping out of my skin. I felt like I had taken a coke bump due to all this adrenaline. I am a woman possessed, my brain hazy from my earlier confrontation with Sebastian. Dread, anger, and frustration fills my body and everything gets turned upside down. Black is white, and white is black. The colors take on each other's names. My mind escapes my body, taking flight. I didn't even know I was hurting Derrick until I hear him yelling at me.

Rationality (or perhaps a hint of it) returns only when Conner grips my shoulders, pulling me away from my boyfriend. Then it's like I had just woken up. There were scratches on Derrick's chest in my frenzied haze to get that filthy shirt off, and he's staring at me like I had finally gone insane.

"Christ, Kathryn!" Derrick gasps, backing away from me. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you crazy??"

Aren't we all?

I stand there, breathing heavily. My cheeks burn, my back prickles with sweat. Conner's arms are around me, half restraining and half comforting. I hear him whispering for me to breathe, to please calm down and that everything's fine. _It's okay, Kathryn. Shhh..._

"Fucking psycho!" Derrick continues, backing away from me like I was a goddamn leper. Although he was aware of my temper and had been on the receiving end of it a number of times, this was the first time I had ever acted this way. His muscled, tanned torso was now filled with light red lines, as though an irate cat decided to use him as a scratching post. My usually gentle boyfriend now stares at me like I was a stranger, well maybe I was. Who was I really? Who and what the fuck have I become?

"I'll talk to her. " Conner says quietly, appeasing him.

"Derrick, I'm sor--"

He flinches when I try to touch him. He's never done that before.

"I'll call you." My boyfriend answers instead and although I know that he doesn't mean to be harsh, his response comes out in a snap. My expression goes from remorseful to shocked to hurt. He rummages through his closet and pulls out a new suit, tossing his now buttonless shirt into the trashcan. "I have things to do."

"But..."

"Please." Derrick responds in a softer tone, kissing my mouth. "We both need to calm down right now, okay?"

"Come on." Conner tugs my arm and numbly, I allow him to drive me home. We don't speak until we were outside my place, and even then the voice that breaks the silence is unnatural.

"Don't let him break you." Conner loosens his grip on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.

Whoever said time heals all wounds obviously did not know us.

* * *

A/N: I'm sort of getting sick of this. No idea why. 

Review or incur my wrath.

Okay, totally kidding. Just review.

Regardless of my sudden lack of interest, let me respond to a few reviews to show my appreciation for the fact that you guys have been with me so far.

Erika: The phone call idea? I just got lucky. ☺ I don't really, really plan everything. I don't have outlines or anything like that.

B: … back at you.

Grace: Thanks. Just thanks. ☺

Kendra: In the dark no more.

All the rest: Kaila, Princess Mel, Celeste, Star Angel, Sparrows Dragonfly, Kimi, Urangel, and Hoshi.

As usual, you guys have my undying appreciation.


	33. Mend

**Part Two, Chapter Six: Mend**

**mend mend mɛnd mɛnd**

**verb [ trans. **

**repair (something that is broken or damaged)**

**• [ intrans. return to health; heal**

**• improve (an unpleasant situation, esp. a disagreement)**

_Did we burn too bright, too bright to last?_

-"She Just Couldn't Stay" by Trembling Blue Stars

He's done it again.

Civil around each other my ass, Sebastian. I stomp and ignore the doorman, practically punching the elevator button to go to his hotel room. In my hand I held a folder with the deed to the townhouse. Edward had left it not only for Sebastian, but for me as well. It was as if the old adulterer had an idea of what had happened to us and was purposely trying to fuck everything up by making me share ownership with that dick. I wanted the townhouse. It was supposed to be _mine_.

Regardless of the incidents (more moronic and bad than good) that had transpired there, I was genuinely fond of it. 

And now he was selling it without even telling me. Of all the fucking people to find it from, I had to find it out from Digby, that weasel of a realtor whose hair had so much grease you could cook something in it.

Room 616. I raise my fist to knock but discover that it is already open. It figures. The asshole can't even do a simple thing like close the door.

Taking this as an invitation, I step inside, preparing to bitch at him. I am not in the best mood these days, ever since I attacked Derrick, things hadn't been going well with us. He seems distant, as though detaching himself from me slowly.

There were murmurs in another room, and I gingerly head towards the voices. I'm hoping I'd catch him with a slut and then yell at him for being a hypocrite.

The sight of a very familiar black haired, green eyed female laughing openly with a relaxed looking Sebastian greets me. They were on the bed, Selena was half nestled against Sebastian and they were talking in murmurs, obviously sharing an intimate joke. Then Selena would flash him a smile and he would kiss her forehead or try to tickle her.

I wanted to heave.

"Tommy asked me out after you left." Selena smiles teasingly, looking at Sebastian's face for his reaction. "The second your plane left, Seb. He just wanted to sleep with me."

It was the first time I had heard her talk. She didn't sound at all like she did in my dreams. By now, her voice was a little like Conner's. There was a unique accent in her dulcet tones that gave me the impression of how she was well traveled.

_Yeah. _I smirk. _Well traveled into hospitals, the crazy bitch._

"Hmm." He replies, his hand caressing her arm. "Did you?" 

"Well, did you sleep with anybody while you were here?"

"Of course not." Sebastian replies, and all I wanted to scream was 'Fucking hypocrite!'. "I promised, remember?"

And then they were kissing again and he was running his hands through her hair and it was too much.

"Sebastian get in here now!" I yell, stomping to a safe distance when I hear him curse in surprise. They both come out of the room, Selena looks alarmed and confused and he just looks pissed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He demands, stepping in front of Selena.

"You're selling the townhouse?? I'm co-owner, asshole! You can't sell it! I want it!"

"Then take it!" He screams back, and behind him the color on Selena's face drains. Her large green eyes start blinking rapidly and she places her hand on her forehead, closing her eyes. "Is that all you want? GO AHEAD! I DON'T CARE! I WAS GOING TO GIVE YOU THE MONEY! I DON'T WANT THAT DAMNED HOUSE! I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!"

"WHY? ARE YOU SCARED OF WHAT I'LL DO TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND?" I throw the folder at him, "Call Digby off!"

"Kathryn, you have no right coming here."

"No, fuckwit. _You_ have no right coming back."

"Oh, do you own the entire state now?" He remarks sarcastically, sneering. His left eye was still purple from when Derrick hit him. Hah. Served him right. "Do I have to ask permission to land in New York City? Am I supposed to pay homage to you now?" 

"You are such a—"

"Seb?" Selena places her hand on his shoulder, looking pale. "Too loud."

"Hurting your delicate little head, are we?" I call out nastily. "We haven't been introduced properly, my former stepbrother seems to have forgotten his manners. Hello, I'm Kathryn Merteuil."

He was too distracted in attending to her to try and stop me. He was checking the top of her head for some reason, then peering into her eyes. The way he handled her reminded me of the way he handled his Aunt Helen's teacups when he visited her. Selena manages a weak grin at me.

"But you're wrong." She says quietly. "I do know you. Sebastian has a photo of you in his apartment."

He doesn't react to that and I try to force another pleasant smile. "You need me to get you anything? Does your head hurt again?" He kisses her forehead. Aww. "Maybe you should sleep first?"

"No, I'm fine." Selena squeezes his hand, returning her attention back at me. "Hello, Kathryn. I'm Selena Wade."

I know who you are. I've known you far longer than you've probably known me. It doesn't seem fair, does it?

I scrutinize her again, trying to hate her. Trying very hard to direct my anger into every inch of her perfect little car accident surviving body. Sebastian watches me closely, like he knows what I'm doing. He places his arm around her, looking protective.

Clear skin, open, friendly gaze, trusting in every way imaginable. Oh, it would be so good to taint her.

"I'm sorry you had to witness our argument." I tell her sincerely, because even though it would have been great to taint her, I find that I can't. She is not like Annette or Cecile. Somehow I understand the attraction a little bit. The way Selena looks at you makes you feel like you can never hate her, because she was too beautiful and perfect that you can't possibly have anything against her. "Sebastian and I have always been very vocal about things."

"It's fine." Selena assures me, glancing at Sebastian. "I'm going out for a while, okay? Uncle Ben's taking me to lunch."

It still annoys me that she's so casual about having lunch with a famous designer like Benjamin Dégat. "Great."

Sebastian hesitates when he kisses her. He tries to avoid my gaze. "Kathryn likes Ben's work." He tries to engage us in small talk as though it would lessen the tension between us. It doesn't. I only remembered how he got me that fucking prom dress.

A pair of soulful green eyes rest on me. Selena smiles again. Break her neck in half, Kathryn. Maybe mist will come out of her mouth and turn into the angel Annette Hargrove never was. "Do you, really?"

I nod.

"I'll tell him for you." She says softly. "He'll be glad to hear it."

"I'm sure he hears that everyday, Selena."

"Sebastian speaks very highly of you." Selena gathers her things, tucking her silky black locks behind her ear. "It's a nice compliment for Uncle Ben."

"I'm sure." I respond wryly.

Sebastian gazes at her, affection thick in his stare.

"Well, I'm off."

"Is Ben having you picked up?"

"No, I'm driving." Selena calls back, taking out a few pills from the medicine cabinet. "I'm taking the Jag."

The moment she says this, his eyes widen in fear. I don't understand it at all.

"No!" Sebastian bursts, hurrying to the room to take the keys from her. "I'm calling the driver!"

"Seb, don't be silly." Selena tries to reach for the keys but he holds it over his head. She frowns, pouting. "Come on! I've been driving ever since you left—"

"You've been driving?" He cuts her off, sounding deathly calm. "You can't drive."

"Yes, I can. I'm twenty five years old, I have a license!"

"You can't drive!"

Oh, interesting. A fight. I take a seat and smile, wondering what would happen next.

"Yes," She tiptoes, trying in vain to get the keys. She places her hand on his chest. Little wrinkles appear on her forehead. Her mouth purses. "I can. Please?"

"No."

Her eyes widen. Lower lip jutted out. Just like what I used to do with Sebastian. _Innocence portrayed perfectly._

It's clear that he remembers that too, because then he looks at me. I smile. I allow myself that at least.

"Please, Seb." Selena whispers again, knowing she has him now. She's always had him. She slips her arms around his waist, placing her chin on his chest. She does it again. Eyes widen. Blink once. Lower lip put out. An uncanny replica of my own trick. Again, my fucking question from so long ago. Who was the one who imitated the other in his eyes?

"Be careful." He relents. I think I had always known he would. "I mean it, Selena. I don't want you getting into an accident."

"I've had enough of those, grandpa." She teases, her eyes shining. "I think I'm spared this time."

"Don't joke about that." He answers seriously. "It's not funny. It's never funny when you joke about car accidents."

"Oh, stop being that way." She scolds, kissing his mouth again and again. Did he still taste the same? She catches me watching and only grins, shrugging. "He worries too much, doesn't he?"

Blissful ignorance. The little bitch. Wrap my fingers around her neck and pull. Watch her innocence spill out of her gasping mouth.

"He can be overprotective, yes." I admit.

"Well, I'm sure I'll run into you again, Kathryn." Selena takes the keys and Sebastian squeezes her hand, unwilling to let go without a reprimanding glare.

"Be—"

"Careful." She finishes, smirking. "Of course I will. Even if I go away again, I'll just come back to you, like before."

Lump in my throat. That fucking cursed notebook. His words. Six years ago.

Sebastian and I watch her leave. It's ironic how she has no idea what I can do to her, how I can destroy her life if I wanted to. She has no idea how I fucked her boyfriend and how he said he loved me right before he left with her. She has no fucking idea about anything, because in her world everything is neat and tidy. Proper, safe, and comfortable to make up for her turbulent past.

"Can I get you anything?" Sebastian offers, returning to sit with me. He says this like we had never had a fight earlier. It was something I was used to. Sometimes I think we feel so much hostility for each other that we have to let it out before we have an actual conversation.

"Just water, please."

He nods, disappearing into the bar. As he hands me a glass, I sniff it cautiously just to check if it wasn't vodka. He smiles at that.

"How's the eye?"

He touches it gingerly, like he'd forgotten it was even there. "Healing. How's life?"

"Oh, you know," I shrug nonchalantly. "My ex boyfriend comes back after six years and generally takes every chance he gets in pissing me off."

His eyebrows rise. "Ex boyfriend? What about ex 'non boyfriend'?"

"At this point it's childish to deny what you were to me. I've moved on, I'm with someone else now. I don't care anymore. I'm trying not to let it affect me but sometimes you're just so goddamn infuriating."

He remains quiet. I've forgotten how nice his eyes were. Blue, like the sky on a good day. "I hope you know too."

"Know what?"

"What you were to me." He rests his arms on his thighs, leaning forward. "And for the record, you're also goddamn infuriating."

"Yes. I don't think it's possible for us to go through a single meeting without it turning into a total catastrophe."

Even white teeth framed by such a succulent, tempting mouth. He grins ruefully, scratching his head. "I know. We should have our hands tied to keep things from getting bloody next time."

"Or, you could have your hands tied and I could torture you."

"Sadistic Kathryn Merteuil, just like before."

I shake my head, playing with the bracelet Derrick gave me. "Not like before, Sebastian."

"I know." He replies, looking at his hands. "Here, I'll let you do one thing you've wanted to do to me ever since I got back. I know you want to hurt me, and I deserved more than that slap on your birthday."

"Why the hell would you allow me to hit you?"

"Because I want something in return."

"Oh." I roll my eyes. "Typical. I can just hit you right now and not let you get anything in return, you know. I can break this glass and slit your throat."

"That's why I'm asking nicely. That way it won't escalate into a fight."

"Okay, what do you want?"

"I'll let you do something you've wanted to do," Sebastian eyes me as I trace the rim of the glass with my finger. "Without killing me," he adds. "And I get to do something I've wanted to do ever since I came back."

"Like hell I'm letting you fuck me."

Sebastian shakes his head. "I don't want to fuck you."

"Well, what do you want?"

"Does it matter? You're going to kick my dick anyway."

A Cheshire cat smile slowly unfurls on my mouth and I stand up. "Mmm… agreed."

He faces me. "Do it."

I knee his groin as hard as I can, thrilled at the groans of pain that spill from his mouth. He lies on the floor, curled up. His face is red. His teeth are gritted, breathing in and out.

"Painful?" I ask sweetly, laughing.

He closes his eyes.

When the color eventually returns to normal on his face, he gets back on his feet. "My turn."

"Are you going to slit my throat?"

He shakes his head. "Come here."

I take cautious steps towards him. His fingers graze my face, the tips caressing the planes and slopes. He glances at me like he was taking a photo, and I am immobilized. Neither angry or submissive. I'm in the middle with him again.

"What the fuck are you—"

"Quiet. You promised."

He leans down and imperceptibly, he kisses the corner of my mouth. His face lingers there for a moment, breathing quietly. He moves forward. His cheek feels smooth against mine.

"Get away from me." I clear my throat. I want to rip my right hand out because it came close to touching him back.

He pulls away, a wistful look on his face.

"What was that?" I glare at him.

"Nothing. Just felt nice."

"Sebastian,"

"Yes?"

"You're such a pussy."

He breaks into easy laughter, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Screw you, princess."

"Oh, go screw yourself."

"Have you had lunch?"

"What?"

"Is my charm too strong? Has it rendered you deaf and immobile? I'm sorry, I do try not to be so charming."

"I wish I had kicked you twice." I grumble, shoving him.

"Have lunch with me." Sebastian says again, checking his watch. "Come on, you owe me just a little. Your boyfriend kicked my ass for no apparent reason."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I have to go to my office, there's so much work to be done. I have files to take home and I'm meeting Derrick in a few minutes, too. Things haven't been going well since your annoying ass came back to town."

"You look stressed. You need a break."

"How do you know I'm stressed?"

"You really want to know?" He narrows his eyes. "Well, there's this expression you get. Like you want to sleep. You look older somehow—"

"Okay, enough on the A Guide to Kathryn's Moods info. Seriously, you're such a stalker."

"Not a stalker, Kathryn. Just observant."

"You probably jerked off to my photo when we were younger, huh?"

His lips twitch into a teasing smile. "Are you sure you really want to imagine that? It's not going to make things easier with us if you're going to imagine me jerking off."

A red flush appears on my cheeks. I scowl at him and he widens his eyes innocently.

---

He ends up going to my office with me.

I notice people glancing at him as he walks beside me. Most of the people who stared were, predictably, women. The purple bruise looks painful, but it's fainter now. The dried blood on his lip would soon be gone anyway. Every mark would be erased and he' d be perfect again.

"You have a nice office." He comments, ignoring my secretary's ogling.

"Thanks. Just have a seat, I'll make it quick. I have to grab a few files to go over when I get home."

He obediently sits down, remaining quiet. I can feel him watching me.

There's a knock on the door and we both look up.

It was Elle.

"Kathryn, your dad called earlier. He said to tell you that he's coming to New York in a week and that he wants an update on the list of clients he gave you months ago."

I nod, browsing through the folders.

Elle notices Sebastian. "Hello."

Sebastian grins, looking her over. "Hi."

She enters the room, holding out her hand. "Elle Fox, the aggressive friend."

"Sebastian Valmont, the asshole former stepbrother who constantly pisses Kathryn off."

I clear my throat. She doesn't look at him the way I sometimes catch her looking at Conner, but she obviously sees how good looking he is. "Kathryn Merteuil, telling you to get out right now."

"I'd ask you if she had always been this way even as a kid but I think I already know the answer to that."

"Well, whatever you're thinking right now is true." Sebastian agrees. I shoot a dark glance at him. Traitor. "However, just to confirm, yes. She's always been this bitchy."

They chuckle like they're old goddamn friends. It wasn't that I was jealous, really. I just wanted her to hate him like Derrick and Conner did. It'd make things easier.

"Elle, get out before I take your katana and slice you into pieces while you sleep." I answer grumpily. "And you," I look at Sebastian. "Shut up before I kick you again."

Elle smiles at us, her radiant beauty makes her glow. She rolls her eyes and leaves, obviously still in a good mood. I faintly smile at her departure.

He catches that easily.

"She's your friend." He states this curiously.

"Yes."

"Wow."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He quickly backtracks. "No, I don't mean it that way."

"Then what the hell does it mean?"

"It means I don't want to fight today. We've already had our one fight a day requirement earlier." He takes the box of files for me. I can't help but look at his bruise.

"Can I touch it?"

"Sure." He looks surprised.

My fingers come in contact with the warm skin. It stays there longer than it should. I feel it pulsating underneath my touch. It's fascinating. I can't pull my hand back. Thumpthumpthump. Faint. Like a little heart pumping purple blood inside him.

"Kathryn?" He whispers, his Adam's apple moving up and down.

"What?"

He shifts the box in his arms. "This is getting really heavy."

"Then let go. I can find someone else to carry it."

"No." He replies adamantly. "I can do it. You don't have to find anybody else."

"You're sure? It gets heavier."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

* * *

A/N: I might discontinue this story. But thank you for reading it anyway. :) You guys have been great.  



	34. Regret

**Part Two, Chapter 7: Regret**

**regret riˈgret rəˌgrɛt riˌgrɛt rɪˌgrɛt**

**verb ( -gretted rəˌgrɛdəd riˌgrɛdəd, -gretting rəˌgrɛdɪŋ riˌgrɛdɪŋ) trans. **

**feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over (something that has happened or been done, esp. a loss or missed opportunity)**

-

_I can not pretend that I felt any regret,  
'Cause each broken heart will eventually mend.  
As the blood runs red down the needle and thread,  
Someday you will be loved. _

-"Someday You Will Be Loved" by Death Cab for Cutie

"I have a surprise for you." Sebastian says, his whisper faint through the phone.

"What?"

I jump when I hear a knock on my door.

"Sebastian…" I warn him, assuming that the asshole had managed to convince the doorman to let him in again.

"It's a good surprise, Kathryn. I promise."

I roll my eyes. An amused smile makes an appearance, curving my mouth automatically. I hang up the phone and walk out of my room, down the hall. The floor feels cold against my feet. I'm walking too fast for this to seem like it doesn't matter.

I open the door. I find myself staring at a pair of blue eyes.

For a while I'm confused. I do a double take. What was he doing here? Same pressed suit, same hesitant smile. He places his hand on my cheek. The familiar warm feeling his touch rekindles something inside me like a little flame. Flicker. Yellow orange heat in my stomach.

"You're the surprise." I say numbly and he only shakes his head and smiles. He wraps his arms around me and he makes everything okay again.

When he lays me on the bed, he takes his time undressing me. Like we had all the time in the world.

"I was waiting for you." I tell him.

He picks up my hand and kisses my palm.

--

_The following is the recounting of our stay at the Rosemond Estate, told through Sebastian's journal._

Kathryn felt heavy. Not uncomfortably heavy. Her weight didn't suffocate me. It was more of a nice kind of heavy, like having a gorgeous pillow. Her ribs were too apparent, too prominent especially since her back was arched. I frowned and caressed the bones, watching as she squirmed under my touch. I watched her. She had her eyes closed and there was a small smile on her face.

"Favorite swear word?" I asked her suddenly.

Her eyes opened. Other women would have found my question stupid because of its arbitrary nature but not her. She pulled herself up and grinned. "Fuck." (I wanted to rip her clothes off and fuck her right there) "You?"

I feigned a thoughtful glance. "Tough call. It's a close one between fuck and pussy."

Kathryn rolled her eyes. "Oh, just say you like both."

"Do I?"

She wiggled underneath my probing fingers while I slipped my hand underneath her bikini. She laughed. Chuckled. The sound felt foreign and warm as it passed through my ears. Her hair felt soft against my cheek and I inhaled her scent without her seeing. I wouldn't want her to think I was acting like some stupid lovesick boyfriend after all. I kissed her neck, mumbling something. I didn't know what I said. Maybe it was that she looked beautiful and that I was happy because she seemed to be happy too. Maybe I told her about Selena and she just didn't understand it. Maybe her lovely skin muffled my secrets, preventing the words from entering her system and destroying all that was good and perfect these past few days.

This went on for a while. Good-natured squabbling, filled with profanities not meant to offend. Sometimes she'd kiss me, and we' d do that for a while. Of course, I couldn't resist dumping her into the pool. She came up and pouted at me, looking hurt. And I gave in. I always do. I always have when it came to Kathryn.

She asked me not to drop her, and I promised I wouldn't.

_Burn in hell, liar._

--

"Are you leaving?" Oh, fuck. Her voice. Incredulous, angry and hurt all at the same time.

I nodded and she left my arms, looking ready to hit me. I'd welcome it. I deserved it after all, for doing this to her.

"When?"

I glanced down, trying not to look at her. Her voice still sounded the same. Hurt and angry. Can't we just forget all that tonight? No. The damage was done. The words had been said. It would be futile to try to go back now that I've given her a warning. "Soon. Just for a week. I've already spoken with the dean."

"Why?"

To go back to Selena and be an utter bastard by wishing she wouldn't resurface from her mental incapacity. That she'd continue acting like she was twelve. "To sort things out."

"What the fuck is there to sort out?"

"Kathryn," I sighed. "Can we not fight right now? Please?" I made at attempt to pull her against me but she resisted, like I had known she would. She recoiled from me as though I had hurt her.

"To hell with that!" She yelled. "I've been fucking patient with you…"

Her ranting went on for a while. As she stormed out of the room, I automatically followed. I had nothing to say, but still I went. I knocked on her door and heard her talking to someone on the phone. My jealousy resurfaced. Who was she talking to? Conner? A bitter smile graced my face. Well, why not? Maybe she should just screw me over first. Did she even know he was back in New York?

I knocked. I wanted her to stop talking to him because imagining them together made me queasy. She opened the door later on and I said her name. I _pleaded_ with her name. _Please let's just forget it, Kathryn._

"Forget it. Let's just sleep. I don't want to argue anymore. I'm getting tired of it."

_You're not the only one._

I tried to stop myself from doing what I wanted to do, but it felt as though there was something about her that I couldn't stop wanting to touch. Her body tensed at the pressure of my grasp and for a while it felt like everything was forgotten. She leaned against my chest as I devoured her neck. We were saying each other's names like it meant something, and it was fine until she turned to face me.

That look on her face! Fuck. I'll never forget it. There was a sheen that seemed to gloss over her eyes. She blinked. Once. She touched my cheek and her eyes narrowed in a look I had never seen before.

"Don't ever leave me." Kathryn whispered and I wanted to hurt myself the way Conner did when he did something bad. "Say it. Say you won't. It'll just be us, like always."

My mouth felt dry. My jaw was wired shut.

"Say it." Her voice shook. "You have to say it. It was never supposed to go this far, but now it has. I need to hear you say it. Promise me or I'll hurt you. I'll hurt her too. You know that I will, Sebastian."

_Her_. Kathryn knew. Somehow she knew. My feet felt heavy. I thought of the phone call earlier. I tried to suppress the jealousy. I didn't have a right, after all.

"Conner's back in New York." I replied instead.

"Why are you telling me this?"

The rest of the argument was a blur. We both wished we never felt that way about each other, but she was the only one who was honest enough to say it out loud.

"Come here." I held out my hand.

Again, the priceless look on her face. Like somehow, she already knew what was going to happen. She shook her head slightly. "Come back."

--

Tonight was the night I left Kathryn.

I'm writing this now wishing that I didn't have to. In my note, I apologized for a lot of things. Since I'm supposed to be honest here, then I would have to say that I wish Selena wasn't important to me. I wish Kathryn hadn't gone to boarding school. I wish I never visited my mother's grave, or even knew about her and what had happened to her. I wish Kathryn had continued with hating me after Annette. I wish I had never stopped hating her too.

I don't have a lot of time. I'm leaving in a few minutes. It's almost dawn now. My hand hurts like fuck. To be honest, I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know when I'll see her again. I don't know if things will be the same with Selena now that this had happened. Maybe it will.

All I know is, I could never really regret anything.

_(The rest of the pages are blank)_

--

_A few hours before—_

"Hey, shitface I need to talk."

"What charm school did you go to when you were a child? I'd like to sue them, they obviously have no idea what the fuck they're doing." Sebastian answers, sighing.

I roll my eyes and make myself a drink. He hears it through the phone.

"Kathryn, you should really stop substituting alcohol for water."

"Yes, mom. Thanks."

"Mom? I bet Tiffany would even teach you how to make a drink."

"Thank you, Sebastian. I'm well aware of how fucked up my parents are. Now, do you have a minute or not? I need help, seeing as how this was your fault to begin with."

"You need help with what?"

"Derrick."

He laughs.

"It's not funny!"

"I'm sorry, but you're asking me for love advice? Hell really has frozen over."

"I'm just saying that you know me more than anybody else and I need to know what I can do, but if you're going to be an asshole about it, need I remind you that six years ago, you told me that you lov—"

"Fine." He cuts in. "What do you need?"

"He already suspects that I fucked you and Conner. Can you just convince him that I didn't?"

"So… you want me to have a heart to heart talk with a guy who beat the shit out of me? You know I can't stand Captain America, Kathryn."

"You still go to work with him."

"That's only because I have to, and I generally try not to say your name in front of him. You know how in S&M they have a safe word? You're the anti-safe word, sis."

"Please stop referring to me as your sister."

"I can't. Force of habit."

"Okay, think of me as your sister. Keep in mind that you've had your face shoved into my—"

"Fine I'll stop!"

I smile.

"Why is he so important to you anyway? It's not like you love him."

"How do you know that I don't?" I counter, annoyed.

"You don't look at him differently."

"Oh, like you'll know how I look at someone I love? Why? Did I love _you_?"

There's a long silence on the other line.

"That was uncalled for." He says curtly.

"I'm not apologizing."

"Right, because after having known you since you wore diapers, that would be the first thing I'd expect."

"It should certainly be the last." I reply, checking my nails. "Oh, and Daddy wants you to be there at lunch tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because he'd like to have you killed for breaking my heart." I sniffle.

"What?" He sounds stunned.

I laugh loudly, imagining the expression on his face. Fucking priceless. "Don't be so full of yourself, you idiot. I was kidding."

"Kathryn, you know that I didn't want to leave y—"

"Shut up before we get into the whole fucked up thing again, Valmont. I don't want to add you to my list of shitty things."

"I thought I was already there?"

"No. You're on my list of stupid assholes. The shitty things are reserved for things I've done and regretted." I scratch my cheek thoughtfully. "Wait. You're right, you're also part of the shitty things."

"You regret me?" He asks quietly. I wonder where Selena was.

"Of course I regret you. It was a stupid thing doomed from the start."

"I'll talk to Derrick for you." He changes the topic quickly. "If that's what you want."

"Yes, it's what I want. If you get along with him, he might thaw out. I already miss him."

"Aw—"

"Be quiet, asshole. You don't have mocking rights."

"And you do? You've been mindfucking me ever since I came back."

"Well, I'm the one who got left behind, right? You should be on your knees kissing my feet for all I know."

"Why exactly is that?" He replies, amused.

"Because I didn't have your mentally unstable girlfriend buried alive along with you of course."

He remains silent.

"I was kidding, Sebastian. Don't be so overprotective of her. She's not a child anymore."

"You don't understand. The thought of her…" His voice trails off. I can hear his thoughts like we were still somehow connected. Fill in the list of horrible things happening. I can see his face cloud over, his eyes lose their mirth. Blood and twisted metal.

"I do understand."

"For what it's worth, I did miss you, you know." There's a smile on his face now. I can sense it from the way he talks. "I'll try to be on my best behavior when I talk to Saxton."

"Good." I pause. "I can't lose him, you know."

"Why not?"

"None of your business, Dr. Phil."

He laughs again. It's a warm laugh, the kind that I know makes the faint crease of a dimple appear on his cheek. "Hey, I'm not the one asking for help with my love life. I really should have teasing rights."

"Well, you don't." I pause. "I'll see you at lunch tomorrow?"

"Mhmm." He murmurs. I can almost imagine him smoking out on my balcony again. "Need me to pick you up?"

"No, I'm fine. Goodnight, Sebastian."

He's silent for a while. By now he would have finished his cigarette and he would have placed his palm on my shoulder.

"Sleep well, princess." He finally answers quietly.

--

"Behave." I chide Sebastian as soon as I see him walking towards me. To give him credit, he looks exceptionally good today, as though for some reason he wanted to impress my father. The suit hugged his body in clean, immaculate lines.

He frowns at me. "What? I haven't even said anything to you yet."

"I know you're going to start with a remark about me asking you to talk to Derrick."

"Nonsense." He rolls his eyes before giving me a once over. "I was going to say that you looked beautiful."

"That's better." I nod my approval. "You've certainly gotten your ass kissing skills up to par. It would be useful when you talk to Daddy."

We both head inside. He places his hand on my lower back to gently guide me. He has a nice hand. I've forgotten how it felt like. He notices my father before I do, and there's an immediate smile on his face that would have suggested he shared a secret with my father.

"Hello, Daddy." I kiss his cheek and Sebastian shakes his hand. He places his hand on his stomach to keep his tie from hanging as he bends down to sit.

"Hello, Kathryn. It's nice to see you again." He looks at Sebastian. "You too, Sebastian."

"Thank you for inviting me, sir." Sebastian is the perfect picture of a well bred Upper East Side man. He glances at his cell phone momentarily. Was he expecting a call from Selena?

We place our orders and in the middle of saying mine, Sebastian places his hand on my arm. He leans in.

"What?" I ask, puzzled.

"This one has…" His breath is warm against my ear, his hand even warmer against my skin. He proceeds to lecture me on the ingredients that he distinctly remembers giving me hives. "Remember when we were sixteen? Your face looked like ants feasted on it."

I blink in astonishment, glancing at him. "Oh. You remember that?"

He shrugs, taking his hand off me. "It's just one of those things I suppose. Besides, it was funny. You looked fucked up."

"Asshole." I repeat, noticing how my father smiled in our direction as though he heard what Sebastian had said.

Sebastian looks away. His eyes narrow in amusement. As the conversation continues, the more everything seems to fit well. It was like there had been a gap and now it's all over.

His thumb brushes against mine occasionally. In the middle of an anecdote wherein I forget everything else, his hand slips into mine for a second before he lets go again. A stolen something. An accident. A taboo. I didn't know what to make of it. When I look at him, he acts as though nothing happened.

About an hour into lunch, he glances at his cell phone again. He frowns this time. He looks at my father. "I'm sorry to leave so abruptly, sir. I have a meeting with my cousin and Mr. Saxton in a few minutes and I'm afraid I can't be late."

My father looks disappointed. The charming fucker's already got my father on a leash. "It's fine, Sebastian. Thank you for coming anyway."

He glances at me with a brief smile again. Soft succulent mouth filled with things about me. "I could never say no, sir. To Kathryn or to you."

--

"I was waiting for you." I say it again, testing how it sounds.

He smiles again. My handsome, blue eyed man. "I'm sorry." He replies, kissing my shoulder. He unbuttons his shirt, exposing his muscular body. Sinewy and strong. I loved touching it. "It just… it took me a while."

"But now you're back with me?"

He hesitates. I reach for his cock and stroke it, watching the various emotions play across his face. He exhales quietly. He shudders. I use my other hand to bring him down with me. I kiss him. He tastes like he did before.

"Kathryn," he says softly, nibbling my earlobe just as he enters me. "I never left."

"I know, Derrick." I manage a laugh. "I don't know what I was saying."

* * *

A/N: I said I _might_ discontinue. It does mean that I'm losing interest though. Guys, thank you for the support and the threats of tying me to my computer chair if I left this. I'll try my best to finish it until I get really sick of CI.

Katie: I'm going to be as polite as I can about this. You're right. I have tried leaving in the past. I wasn't able to. I'm a different person now. I'm damn stronger than I was before. Furthermore, feel free to stop reading this if you don't like it. I'm not going to apologize for writing this, nor will I overexert myself into making this something you might like. It's fine, I respect your opinion and I'm not holding anything against you.


	35. Perfidious

**Part Two, Chapter 8: Perfidious**

**perfidious pərˈfidēəs **

**adjective poetic/literary **

**deceitful and untrustworthy**

-

_The trees in the courtyard  
are painted in blood  
so I've heard  
She hangs the headless  
upside down to drain_

-"Eat Me, Drink Me" by Marilyn Manson

December 5th 

Today I received a call. The call I had once wanted to get for so long, to hear Greta say the three fucking words that would have made me smile like a stupid fool. Selena was lucid. Imagine. Three fucking words that made my stomach turn.

Ever had one of those days when you feel like screaming but you can't so you just keep it all in? This is one of those days for me.

It started out great. Kathryn was in bed with me and we were having what we now referred to as 'quiet time'. I was reading Vladimir Nabokov's _Lolita_ while she was staring at the ceiling, thinking about who knew what. People suffering? I bet she'd like that.

"Sebastian?"

I turned my attention to her.

She hesitated, playing with her hands. Her eyes flicker to the journal resting beside me. "Is Selena there?"

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

_Shut her up, Sebastian. You have to._

---

She's going to the dance with me. It's funny how something as mundane as prom has gotten me grinning like an idiot. Kathryn said yes. She fucking said yes.

Wait a second. Get a grip, Valmont. Stop acting like a pussywhipped moron. It's just Kathryn for crying out loud.

Oh, fuck it. I'm happy now. Everything's going well.

---

Kathryn had already left to meet Tuttle when the phone rang. I was still smiling as I went to answer it. My room still smelled like Kathryn. I could still feel her against me. Me inside her. Fucking hell. Best feeling in the world, right?

"Hello?"

"Sebastian? It's Greta." Selena's caretaker paused. "I have something important to tell you."

My smile fell. Alarm bells started ringing in my head. My organs decided to run around inside me. Oh, God. "Did something happen to Selena? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. She's lucid."

"For how long again?" I asked warily, rubbing my eyes.

"She's been lucid for a week now."

"She's been what!" My voice rose. I had to sit down in shock. "W-why didn't you call me? Why the fuck didn't anybody tell me??"

"At first we thought it was just another one of her episodes, but she's been responding to the treatments well. I wanted to call you but she told me to wait for at least a week. She didn't want to disappoint you anymore, she knows how much you've been looking forward to…"

"Let me talk to her." My voice shook. Kathryn's scent seemed to disappear from my nostrils. I couldn't remember what she felt like anymore. Selena. Bright smile, sad eyes. The guilt felt heavy inside me. I leaned against the headboard, pulling my knees up to my chin as I waited for her. I was always waiting for her.

"Seb?" Her voice sounded still and calm. "Seb, I'm okay now."

"Are you… are you sure?" I cleared my throat. How many times had I waited to hear her say that?

"Well, Dr. Rosen said that there's a very large possibility that this is permanent." Selena replied, sounding happy. Her voice drove warm spikes to my heart. Thawing the ice princess out. "He's been subjecting me to a lot of tests ever since it happened. Can you come see me? Please? I've missed you so much."

My mouth was still open. There was a dent on my pillow from Kathryn's head. A strand of brown hair on the upper left.

"Sebastian?"

"Uh… yeah. Of course I'll come see you."  
---

_Kathryn, we need to talk._ I envisioned how the conversation would go in my head. She would get back from Tuttle's with her face glowing and her eyes lit up the way she seemed to be when we were together—yes, I've noticed that.

_Hey, non boyfriend._ She'd kiss me. Wrap her arms around my neck and if she was in a good mood, she'd sit on my lap. _What's_ _up?_

_I'm leaving you. That's what's up._

The conversation would end with my immediate demise. Possibly with her strangling me or cutting off my dick and watching me bleed and twitch in agony.

I breathed the cold air as I got out of the car. I checked my watch. I steeled myself. I climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. Greta answered the door and told me Selena was resting in her room. Maneuvering easily through the ins and outs of the Wade mansion, I entered her room and she had her back turned to me. Slim and toned. My little perfect Selena. Memories of her assaulted me, of us before everything else fucked it up.

I took off my shoes and slipped next to her, placing my arm around her waist. I nuzzled her neck.

She stirred, her body moved closer to mine.

"Hey you." I said quietly. "I'm here."

She turned to look at me. I held her gaze for a long time, reading her mood. Her eyes were sleepy, but aware. Not like before. Not like when she would ask me who I was and if I had seen her Daddy, who promised to get home before dinner. Not like when only knew me as the boy she'd seen at the cemetery. My fingers traced her eyebrows and ended at the corner of her lips. She kissed my fingertip.

"Hello." She answered, smiling softly.

"It… it is you." I remarked, awed. Everything about her was different now. "Dr. Rosen's… he's sure that… I mean, what about the experimental treatments Ben suggested? How is this possible? How long will—"

Selena placed her hand over my mouth. "It's not a complete turnaround, but I'm back. I still have a lot to go through though. Greta's been telling me about you for the past week." She continues, her eyes blinking sleepily. "I've missed out on so much, haven't I?"

"I was waiting for you." I replied, swallowing the tumor that had formed in my throat.

"Greta said you were graduating early? Just like what we planned when we were younger… only you're ahead by a few years than me." She frowned. "I still have to go out of the country for all these treatments Dr. Rosen's prescribed. Come with me, Seb. We can travel together like we always talked about, remember?"

I looked into her trusting green eyes and found no voice with which I can use to lie to her. I couldn't lie to her. I couldn't leave her. Even until now she makes my insides do stupid, twisting things that she had managed to do ever since we were eight. Gorgeous Selena, whose trembling body I had missed being inside of.

She pressed herself closer, playing with my hair. I felt her warm lips on my jaw and my body immediately reacted. When we kissed, my body felt as though I was being dipped in lava, but she makes it feel so fucking good.

"Do it." She kissed me, licking my upper lip. Her eyes seemed to change. She left the innocent, happy expression and it turned into something darker. Lust. Love. Both. Who knew? "I've missed you so much."

And then she had her legs open and I was inside her. My perfect mistake, arms clutched around my neck, her pleasured whimpers making me weak.

Kathryn was miles away in every aspect, yet there was a brief moment wherein Selena said my name. Moaned it. It was a combination of their voices.

---

"I'll see you soon." I told Selena through the phone. I smiled when she sounded happy, because that was all I wanted her to be. The sound of Kathryn's heels clacking against the floor made me hang up just in time and my grin disappeared.

"Seb, what's wrong?" She inquired, looking at me oddly.

I didn't answer. The mere sight of Kathryn seemed to restrict me from breathing.

Her expression changed. Now she's suspicious. "Sebastian. What happened?"

I need to get out of this fucking room. "Let's leave." I told her. "Right now, let's just leave."

She looked surprised. "We can't just leave—"

"Not forever… just for the weekend. We could go to Aunt Helen's house. She's in Italy for the year, we can stay there. Just you and me, Kathryn. Can we just go?" Please please please let's go now.

Kathryn's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Why?"

"I uh…" I hedged. "I can't be here right now."

Then she did that thing. That thing she'd never done and up until that moment I thought she'd never do. She placed her hand into mine, reassuring me. She was reassuring me? She didn't need to. I didn't deserve it. I just fucked someone else. "Hey… tell me what's wrong."

"It's not important, do you want to leave with me? It'll be okay, I promise. I know you have that thing with the Vanderbilts but I want you to go with me, so will you? Kathryn? Will you please go with me?"

"Who are you running from?" Kathryn questioned, her suspicion solidifying into something very much real.

Fuck. "Why do you have to ask me questions all the fucking time?"

"Why do you have to be such a prick" I heard her voice yell as I stomped off. "God, you are fucking impossible sometimes! You're like a goddamn puzzle, Sebastian! You talk in riddles and you won't tell me anything! You want to leave? Fine! You can forget about taking me with you! I don't want to spend the weekend with you if you're going to be like that!"

I slammed the door only to have her kick it.

"Sebastian, goddamn you I don't want you when you're this insane!"

Screw you. Screw me. Screw everything. Maybe I am insane. I ignored her and headed to the bathroom for my toiletries.

"The same thing's happening with us the way it's happened with Annette. If you keep doing this to me, one day you're going to find me fucking someone else." She called out seriously.

I stopped moving.

"I mean it, Sebastian."

I'm going to find her fucking someone else. Like Conner. Or that stupid idiot Vanderbilt. I feel like hitting something. I couldn't ignore her anymore. "Come with me. Please. Just for two days… you said it once, right? Can't we just fuck and forget everything?"

She didn't answer for a long time and I brought my hands to her face. Please please please please.

"Alright." She nodded slightly. "We'll go."

---

Derrick and Sebastian treat each other as though the former had never smacked the latter around one fine day in my boyfriend's house. I, on the other hand, feel less than pleased. Tonight was supposed to be one of those nights when I would have Derrick all to myself, especially now that he seems to not treat me like I was a lunatic (Who wouldn't?). I don't know what Sebastian told him but I certainly did not count on spending Friday night standing outside the theater with them.

Theater. Of course, you may ask why on earth this happened. Apparently after their male bonding Sebastian invited him to Selena's show. The ever pure and perfect girlfriend had been invited by her dance troupe in Paris to perform with them during their tour. Derrick had accepted.

Which now brings us here.

Sebastian cradles a large bouquet of flowers and after greeting Derrick, he nods in my direction and I scowl grudgingly. He smirks and gives me a look that seems to say 'You're welcome'.

"Tell me again why I agreed." I sigh to an amused Conner, who looks down at his shoes, grinning. I look at his profile. Like a glowing vampire with his smooth marble skin and piercing eyes. Strange, really. He's been around so much that sometimes I forget how beautiful he is. Not handsome. More delicate than handsome.

"It won't be that bad." He reassures me. "Besides, I'm looking forward to meeting Selena."

Selena. Conner. Almost immediately visions of them having sex cloud my memory and I wince. Conner kissing her and deciding that she was better. That he fit better into her than he did with me. Her dainty hands running through his soft dark curls, fisting. Moaning. Head thrown back.

"Oh, and that's the only reason why you came?" I glare at him but he shrugs. He slips his arm around my waist, gently allowing me to rest against him.

"Don't be jealous, Kate." He kisses my forehead. Mm. Soft mouth. Lord Conner. Won't that be nice? Lord Conner and Lady Kathryn. "I'm here because you might go crazy and try to rip Derrick into shreds again."

"Haha." I roll my eyes. "Any chance we can ditch those two morons and go to Barcelona? I've heard it's nice this time of the year."

Sebastian and Derrick are waiting for us now, having exhausted their small talk. I smile widely through gritted teeth. Conner lets me go immediately. We glance at each other and Conner wrinkles his nose at me before jerking his head in their direction.

"Come on." He licks his lips. Ah, that tongue that does wonderful things to my body. "It won't be that bad, I promise."

---

Selena Wade. How do I describe her with disdain? I can't. She has everybody transfixed as she appears on the stage. Her body is like water, fluid and graceful as she allows the audience to see her bright smile. It's hard to believe she was ever damaged.

In the darkness, I glance at Sebastian. He's leaning forward, his eyes filled with adoration. He looks at her the way he's never looked at me. He's in a glass box and I can't break through it. All he does is watch as she danced. Goddess of fluid limbs and green eyes. He barely blinks, he's entranced with her the same way everybody else seems to be. Even Derrick, as Sebastian pointed her out to him like he was a proud parent watching his kid in a school play, looked like he didn't want to be disturbed.

"Hey." Conner nudges me, squeezing my arm. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I answer quietly, subtly slipping my hand underneath his. "That's her, the one in black leotards. Black hair, green eyes."

He nods and I watch as he appraises her.

"Well?" I press.

He turns and stares blankly at me. "Well what?"

"Is she pretty?"

"Hmm… I guess." His voice is casual.

"You don't find her stunningly beautiful?" I persist, leaning closer so we wouldn't disturb the other people.

"Is this a trap?" He replies, grinning. "Tell me the right answer so I can avoid your wrath."

"I'm being serious, Conner."

He loses his grin. "All right. You want to know what I think?"

"Yes."

"Of all the women I've known, seen or been with, she's right up there. She _is_ stunningly beautiful, but I still think he's an idiot for leaving you."

"Alana's a lucky bitch. I should have married you." I comment wistfully and his lips tug upwards, twitching into a smile.  
---

There she is. Look. Graciously smiling at the well wishers, the suckups who want to be friends with her or to fuck her or to be her. She has small teeth, like a child's, but they suit her. White gleaming little pearls. Her hair was wavy, soft with loose curls. She spots us and Sebastian moves ahead. He engulfs her into a big hug, crushing the flowers against her back while she laughs quietly in his ear.

"Hello." She greets us, carrying the flowers Sebastian had brought her. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

"This is Derrick Saxton, Kathryn's boyfriend. He's the owner of the PR company I'm working with." Sebastian says and she shakes his hand. I imagined tearing off her arm. Don't touch him. He's mine.

"It was a great show." My boyfriend compliments her sincerely, taken by her undeniable charm.

"And this is Conner Valmont, my cousin. He's a Spanish duke." Sebastian adds sardonically. "The European version of prince charming."

Selena laughs and Conner smiles at her.

And just when she couldn't be any more fucking endearing, she actually starts speaking in rapid Catalan. Conner looks taken aback but he nods and replies in the same manner. Perfect. She's probably multilingual. He shakes Selena's hand and says something that makes her laugh and turn to Sebastian.

"You know it's rude to speak in another language when there are people who have no idea what you're talking about, right?" Sebastian grumbles lightly.

"Oh, don't frown." Selena teases, running her fingers over his forehead to smooth out the wrinkles. "He asked what on earth I ever saw in you."

Derrick laughs. "Yeah, be careful, Sebastian. Conner might steal her from you."

My smile freezes. Conner looks uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns.

It was such an awkward moment and I decided to take pity on my poor, unsuspecting boyfriend by chuckling. I wrap my arms around him and kiss his mouth, resting my cheek against his chest while Conner turns away to hide a grin.

"He shouldn't worry about things like that." Selena, the only other party who has no idea how Derrick's comment made for very twisted irony, says lightly. "We've been together for a long time, it feels wrong to be with someone else now."

"Oh? How long?"

"Since we were eight."

Somebody please bring back Annette Hargrove. I promise not to call her Kansas anymore. Or Virgin (besides, that isn't really applicable to her anymore). Or Hick. Or Blondie. Or… well, I promise to be somewhat nice.

Okay, not nice. I do promise not to insult her anymore. Just bring her back.

---

Look at her again. She's dancing with Derrick and Conner. The blinking lights illuminate her like a fucking goddess and they're laughing and having a peachy fucking time. Cow.

What I need is a dose of estrogen. I pull out my cell phone and text Elle. She'd know what to do.

_I need you here now. At… _(I hurriedly type the name)_. Hurry the fuck up, I might kill somebody._

I spot Sebastian off somewhere, getting us another round of drinks. His shirt sleeves were folded, showing his tanned forearms. I think he's had a lot to drink already. Boozie Valmont. There's a blonde dressed in a blouse two sizes below her actual one. Her breasts almost pop out and I curl my lip in disgust. Don't waste your time, blondie. He's taken.

Elle replies. _I'm not your personal slave, Kathryn. I have plans._

I sigh. _Conner's here. I also want you to meet Selena Wade so you can find something wrong with her and make me laugh._

It's a long time before she replies. I glance at them again, frowning. Now Derrick's taken her and they're actually moving against each other well. Sensual, yet gentle. At least Conner's found another partner.

"Hey." Sebastian hands me another drink. "I thought you liked dancing?"

"I would, but you see she's taken my men."

He looks at me for a while.

"Where the hell is your humor, Valmont?" I smirk, coyly fixing his collar.

"I don't know." He responds, looking at my hands. "The same place where your nice traits have gone to?"

"I resent that!" I shove him gently. "Considering the circumstances, I should be a fucking saint. You do know that if she were any other girl dry humping my boyfriend and my ex boyfriend at the same time, I would have done something that would have possibly humiliated her in front of everybody, right?"

He smiles. "You're right. I'll buy you your first rosary tomorrow."

My phone's external screen lights up. _Selena Wade, Hector Wade's daughter?_

Actually, I had been counting on the fact that Conner was here but I figured her curiosity was a good thing. Selena's father had been one of the most influential business tycoons and his methods for marketing and brand management were adopted by certain companies, the agency being one of them. _Yes_.

Her reply came quickly. _I'm on my way._

Before I could wonder about this sudden change of Elle's mood, Sebastian nudges my shoulder with his. He leans closer, blinking under the mild intoxication.

"Don't drool on me, freak." I complain.

"It's like handling glass." He says near my ear, breathing.

"What?"

He doesn't reply. He only stares ahead. "Glass." He says again. "I'm always scared that I'll do something wrong."

"You won't."

He nods, fidgeting. Looking annoyingly adorable to all the other women but me. "I was in Paris with her, and there was a point wherein it got so frustrating. I had an affair with a classmate."

"What!" I'm indignant on her behalf. And on mine. That miserable cheating bastard.

"It was just sex." Sebastian says heavily. "I fucked that little cunt into the next few years of my fucked up life."

He dirty talks when he's had too much to drink.

"Did Selena find out?"

He shakes his head.

"And… you're telling me this. Me, the same woman who spread the word that Cecile and Ronald had a kinky sex life just because I felt like it?"

"As crazy as it sounds, Kathryn." He squeezes my knee under the table. His hand stays there. "I trust you."

"So what happened with the slut?"

"Glass." He repeats, staring at Selena then at me. "It's hard sometimes, but it's where I should be, holding that piece of glass. Selena's important to me."

"I'm glad." I reply stiffly. "Can you get away from me now? I can feel you breathing on my neck."

"But I like it here." He murmurs. His breath must reek of vodka by now.

"Well, you've lost all rights to that area so fuck off."

He comes closer. When he talks it's like he's kissing my neck. "Maybe I don't want to fuck off."

"Maybe you're drunk, you stupid bastard." I try prying his hand from my knee but he only latches on to my fingers. That leech.

"Princess." Sebastian whispers. "Can you look at me and tell me that it was real?" 

"What? Your mental delusion that I give a fuck what you think?"

"You know what I'm taking about. Look at me." This time he sounds commanding. "Kathryn, turn your fucking head and look at me."

I push him away. The sudden act makes him blink rapidly. Then his face changes. He grabs my chin forcefully, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Tell me." He commands. Then pleads. Then barks. "Tell me it was nothing to you while you look at me! I'll know when you're lying, Kathryn! You know I will!"

"What I'm going to tell you," I jerk my face away from his grip in anger. "is that you've had too much to drink and now you're acting like a moron."

He doesn't speak for a long time. Apart from finishing his drink, he doesn't react at all. His hand creeps upwards from my knee. I gasp and jump slightly. I bang my knees against the table. His hand doesn't stop until it finds what it was looking for. I look at the dance floor in alarm, but Selena, Derrick, and Conner were gone. They were now at the bar, enjoying themselves while I was stuck with the horny, drunk idiot. Great.

"You lying bitch. Okay, tell me you never felt anything." Sebastian slurs, rubbing his cheek against my neck. He begins massaging my inner thigh and I stifle a moan. "Tell me you never missed me, never thought about me while you were fucking Conner or Saxton or who the fuck knows."

"Let me go." I hiss, struggling against him. "I'm going to—"

"Just tell me."

"Hey, Kathryn look who I found!" Conner's voice sounds faint but I can see them coming to our table. In desperation, I slap Sebastian as hard as I can. Maybe it'll knock some sense into him.

He does look dazed, but he keeps his distance from me upon seeing his precious Selena. The glass he held so lovingly while he attempted to finger his former stepsister. Elle had her arm around Conner's waist, but she was staring at Selena. Her eyes are blue tonight. Trick of the light. Or maybe it was her mood. Stormy blue when she's mad and gray when she's happy.

"Hey, you." Derrick kisses her cheek. I don't mind it. They're still close, given their history. What I do notice is how strangely she's looking at Sebastian's girlfriend.

"Elle Fox, this is Selena Wade." I avoid Sebastian's eyes.

Elle finally looks at me. I am surprised by the coldness in her eyes. I was about to ask her what the hell was wrong but it was as though I only imagined it. Now, there was only placidity. She smiles her beautiful smile and clasps Selena's hand with her own.

Her melodious voice rang clear. Warm, yet I felt the ice from underneath her breathy tone.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," She tells Selena. "I knew your father."

* * *

A/N: As usual, I'm very grateful for the support and I'm glad that you still like this after what? 34/35 chapters? A little daunting, but I do try to keep it interesting. This is the longest story I've written to date, so while I do get sick of it, I hope you guys don't. I can't reply to everybody right now, since I'm in a bit of a rush but seriously. Thank you to everybody who reviewed/read and actually did not get lost in the billion and one plot twists and turns and revelations here. 

K: I didn't know people liked that story, I'm very sorry that I deleted it but I just got sick of that fic so I chucked it. Anyway, thanks for reading!

Katie: Accepted. No worries, it didn't hurt me. It just pissed me off. Don't do it again.

Kendra: Ready for another lengthy review now. Haha, or just a review. I'd appreciate it either way. :D

skyz: I didn't know there were still people on Team Conner, but will they or won't they? Hmm. Guess we'll see. :)

B: Kowtow away. Lol


	36. Choice

_I won't keep you waiting. There's a chapter reference here, I just checked. Quartus, from Part One, the one with the tickets. Anyway-_

**Part Two, Chapter 9: Choice  
**

**choice ch ois noun **

**an act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities**

-

_Something's in the air tonight_

_ The sky's alive with a burning light_

_ You can mark my words something's about to break_

-"Nothing Left To Lose" by Mat Kearney

I count six. Six people, six pairs of eyes all staring at me. A warm bubble fills my chest and it keeps spreading from my heart, down to my stomach until it lingers in my toes. Selena is smiling widely and Elle sits beside her, but her expression is exactly the opposite. Today her eyes are blue. Blaine's mouth is hanging open. And Conner, my old friend and lover… what of him? For once he doesn't look like he's amused the way he always was. For once he doesn't avoid Sebastian. Their eyes meet and they communicate something. Sebastian sips his wine. He loosens his tie. He looks at me.

"Look at her, she's shocked." Elle comments, peering at me with a smile that tells me she knows what I am thinking and feeling at the moment. "Are you going to make us wait before you reply? You know, heighten to tension and all that?"

Bitch. My eyes narrow and she bites her lower lip teasingly, whispering something in Selena's ear. Perfect Selena only chuckles and kisses Sebastian, nuzzling against him.

If this were a movie the camera would pan to them. He would place his hand on top of hers as she touched his cheek. He'd return the affection, maybe even smile at her. Then it would be on Derrick's face, his handsome, happy face. He'd kiss my hand. Make me feel pure and perfect, too.

Lights. Camera. Action. Where are the extras, where is the song?

"Kathryn? Derrick prods.

"Huh… what?"

The camera would return its focus on my face. If they don't cut this scene from the movie, then they'd see the twinge. The smile, or at least the attempt of a smile. It's the kind of smile a person has when they're not quite sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

Cut back to Sebastian. He's staring at me again. He wets his lips and I feel mine dry up, like he's taken the moisture from me. He doesn't say anything. He just waits, they all do. They're all waiting for me. What a turnaround. I had waited for all of them at some point.

---

This is where the audience becomes confused. The song, preferably something instrumental, fades out. It opens with an entirely different scene from an earlier time to let the poor, them know what the hell was going on.

So here it is:

"Ms. Merteuil, Mr. Valmont is here to see you."

I look up from the marketing brief I was studying to stare at the phone as my secretary's voice interrupts me. Automatically, I press the button and reply. "Which Valmont?"

_Conner, M'am._

"Sebastian, M'am."

Well, that's certainly something new. I press the button again, leaning closer. Cautiously, as though a hand would come out and strangle me. "I'm sorry, which Valmont was that again?"

"Sebastian Valmont, Ms. Merteuil."

Probably to apologize for feeling me up the other night. I rub my eyes, deciding whether I should let him. I've been avoiding his calls for the past few days until he apparently decided he'd had enough and decided to ambush me in my office.

"Fine." I finally answer, closing the folder. "Let him in, please."

The double doors immediately open and he comes in. To avoid the awkward attempt of a conversation, I stand up.

"Can I get you a drink?" I offer, heading to the minibar.

"No, thank you." Sebastian replies. I can feel him looking at me.

I get myself a glass of water anyway. "So, what brings you here"

"Kathryn, I'm really sorry for what happened the other night." Sebastian approaches me, looking remorseful. "It was out of line."

"I'd say placing your hand a few inches from my cunt is the understatement of 'out of line'." I gulp the water greedily. I hadn't even known I was that thirsty.

"I know." He exhales heavily. "Look, it was wrong. I'm sorry, I know I said I was going to try and stay away from that. You're happy with Derrick or Conner or whoever, I get that."

"You couldn't have called to say that? I was busy."

"You were avoiding me." Sebastian tells me bluntly.

"That's because you were being a needy moron."

"Said the pathetic obsessed bitch. 'Oh, Sebastian I can't lose Derrick'!"

I make a face, glaring at him. He smiles. We both know it's all forgiven.

"What made you barge into my office? Couldn't bear not being friends with me, huh?" I tease, grinning mischievously. "Were you going to commit hara-kiri using one of Elle's katanas if I didn't forgive you?"

"Not at all. I just couldn't deprive you of the privilege of my company." He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out two tickets. "You see, I came prepared had you needed more cajoling."

I squint at the tickets he held. "Tickets to a Celine Dion concert? Are you really that gay and stupid?"

He looks annoyed. Hah. "It's for that play you like. Remember? I also got you tickets years ago but we never got to…" he doesn't finish his sentence but I already know what he's talking about_  
_  
"Hmm… interesting." I take the tickets from him but he holds on to the other one. I cock an eyebrow.

"This one's mine." He grins. "They're for tonight, just so you won't get tempted to screw me over."

My eyes widen innocently. "Me? Screw you over? I've always thought it was you who did the screwing around, Valmont."

"Don't be cruel, Kathryn."

"I would never dream of it, darling brother."

"So I can't call you sister and you can refer to me as your brother? That's not fair."

"Mhmm. Tell it to someone who gives a shit."

"You fucking bitch." Sebastian says affectionately, slipping his arm around my waist.

My body tenses but he doesn't seem to notice.

"I checked with your secretary. You're free until ten, so let me buy you breakfast."

"Well, my secretary should keep her mouth shut. Did you fuck her just so she'd tell you my schedule?"

He looks hurt, his fingers press against my side. He rests his cheek against my temple and brings his mouth nearer. "You think so little of me, princess."

"Oh, believe me. At this point my view of you has even improved so be thankful."

"Really?"

"Yes, now will you let go of me? Stop trying to cop a feel already, Valmont. How pathetic are you?"

"I just missed holding you. You were always so warm." He answers easily as though he has just told me the weather was nice. "Let's go out. Just you and me, so whatever awkwardness between is will be gone by tonight and we can just enjoy the play."

"I don't know why I keep saying yes to you." I sigh, turning around to grab my purse. His eyes seem bluer, like Elle's. Or Annette's. I don't know.

"Because I'm handsome, charming, and very few people have managed to resist me."

"Up yours." I follow him out the office. When we step into the busy street, I almost lose my balance from the onslaught of people who were almost bumping into me.

"Fucking hell!" I curse, having been caught off guard.

Sebastian places his arm on my shoulders. "Careful there, Kathryn. I wouldn't want to lose you again." He teases, laughing with crinkled blue eyes.

---

Scene switch. Back to the initial setting. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't tell you where and when, did I? I'm not very good with telling it like this.

The setting: An Italian restaurant, the name of which has escaped me after having realized why I was here. The time: Afternoon. Late afternoon that it could almost be considered an almost-evening. Is there such a term? Almost-evening. I may have coined that. The characters: Me, Derrick, Conner, Elle, Sebastian, Blaine and Selena. My caring boyfriend decided that my recent outbursts/episodes wherein I had snapped at him and everybody else were due to work related stress. I say it's due to the persistence of one white faced bastard. I say it's due to his inappropriate behavior, his hand up my thigh, his mouth murmuring invitations to relive the past. To fuck me again. And yes, it might also be due to work. It might be due to my friend, the malevolent beautiful creature named Elle, whom I earlier witnessed growing closer with Conner. It might be because of Conner, because like he said, there will always be something and the sight of him with her turns my stomach. Or it might be because of Selena and Elle, two women who hold my fascination in different ways. It might even be due upon hearing the news of my mother getting engaged to some Arab with a large bank account and a small dick (or so I've heard).

Anyway, so to alleviate this work related stress he'd sensed I was having, he surprised me by having a few of my 'friends' gather for lunch. Derrick means well, of course. I can't blame him for anything.

But then this happens, and it's too late. I wish I could be the viewer, to have this movie on DVD and hold the remote. Have the power to turn back time. Hit pause and rewind.

---

Back to the other part, the scene wherein I am with Sebastian and we are having breakfast. By now, we're finishing up. He's telling me about how business is doing well, although he stays away from the topic of his 'mental breakdown', when he totaled his car. We share anecdotes about office politics, chuckling at the right moments, hitting the proper punch lines.

Then he mentions Selena and Elle, about how his girlfriend admires Elle. There's something about Elle that immediately draws people in, although I'm sure that she's as best suited to be a role model as I am best suited at being a nun. I remember that night. The coldness in Elle's gray eyes. That pops the bubble, cracks this area of easy laughter. Elle is up to something, I know it. Sebastian's hesitant to say this, but he does anyway. He doesn't understand that maybe I am not the one he needs to protect Selena from.

"I have to go." I suddenly say. "I have to go over to Elle's house to talk to her."

"Why?" He looks confused but I smile and give nothing away. "Let me take you there."

"No, no, please." I stand up as he does. We both do something. Some sort of movement. He leans forward, and I step back. Then it's the other way. He signs the credit card receipt.

"I um… I'll see you tonight." His suit feels slightly cold as I touch his arm. Then I kiss his cheek. It feels natural now.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything." He promises.

---

Switch back.

"I have to go." Conner says, clearing his throat. He glances at his watch too quickly to actually see the time. I feel the same way and he knows it. He sees me looking at him, but he only shrugs. He can't help me anymore. He can't stay for this. He doesn't want to. There will always be something.

I wonder if Sebastian will leave, too.

He doesn't. He's watching me closely.

---

The scene opens at Elle's house. I enter, immediately swallowed by the black and white motif. There is someone yelling. Wood against wood. It was obvious. She was in her practice room. Ever since she met Selena, she spent most of her time venting out her aggression.

I was prepared to see her instructor with her so you can imagine my surprise when I see a familiar tattooed back, muscular and slick with sweat. They face each other, both so concentrated they never saw me. Elle's eyes are gray, grayer than I'd ever noticed.

"Sick of losing?" She taunts sweetly while he scowls.

"I may have only started Kenjutsu, but you do know that I have a background in swordplay, right?" Conner retorts, his feet nimble as he attacks her. She deflects his strike easily, sweeping him off his feet with a kick. He lands on his back, groaning.

"Lord Conner, I can't say I have a lot of faith in your training."

He gets up and brushes himself off. I remember having my tongue in that mouth, my hands all over that torso. This time, Elle goes first, and their swords clash before he manages to disarm her. Undeterred, she launches into a kick. Conner grabs her ankle and does some sort of spin. She falls with an annoyed cry.

"Give up?" He smirks, and she uses her legs to cause him to fall on top of her. Their faces are now close, both perspiring.

"Never." Elle responds, barely blinking. Conner's smile fades. He stares at her like this is the first time he's ever seen her.

"Elle, can we talk?" I interrupt before something happens and immediately he gets off her. Instead of looking pissed off at being interrupted, Elle smiles like she'd been expecting me.

Scene change to pass the time. Now Conner has left and we are outside, this magnificent garden with some sort of Zen theme.

"Sebastian told me you've been befriending Selena." I cut straight to the point, anxious to get back to the office (Elle had called in sick). "Why?"

She toys with her drink. "Why not?"

"Save me the bullshit, Elle. You have that look."

"What look? Do you know me enough to know the various expressions of my face?"

"What the hell are you planning to do to her?"

"Please, like you even like her? You've been busy making googoo eyes at Sebastian, don't tell me this won't be convenient for you as well."

"Don't be a bitch. Tell me what she's done to you." I answer.

"You should know that she's not as perfect as she looks. There's a side of her you might even relate to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"All in due time, darling Kathryn."

---

This is where the recollection catches up to connect with the scene you have seen in the beginning.

Derrick surprises me, chiseled, dependable Derrick who is as great in bed as he is in the business. Derrick equals a reprieve from my previous commitments. He picks me up from my office, making me once again the envy of everybody there. I kiss him for a long time. It's always nice being kissed.

He tells me that he knows I've had a lot going on lately, and that he loves me. He just wants me to relax a little; I've been working too hard.

So he surprises me by gathering everybody into one place. My friends. I only needed Elle, Conner, and Blaine to be honest. But Sebastian was there, and he grins furtively at me when he sees me again. I can feel his cheek against my lips even though I was a few feet away.

Everybody is getting along, and I feel myself relax. Just as the late lunch was winding down, Derrick calls for everyone's attention.

"I've been thinking," he clears his throat. His blue eyes probe mine and I smile encouragingly. "There are a lot of ways to say this, but I think I'll skip the speech. I love you, Kathryn. It's been a year and no one's ever made me as happy as you have."

"Hey!" Elle calls out, smirking. "We went out, you prick."

"You know what I mean." Derrick laughs and I feel a sense of panic as to where this was leading. From the strained smiles on Sebastian and Conner's faces, it was clear they knew as well.

"Kathryn, will you marry me?"

This is the moment wherein everything makes sense to the viewer.

I can't find the words to answer. They all wait for me to speak. Conner leaves. Sebastian stays. Hah, the irony. Hadn't it been the other way around?

"Kathryn?" Derrick rubs my back worriedly. "Are you okay?"

The camera returns to Sebastian. His mouth opens. His placid expression cracks for the merest of seconds. He may have mouthed. _'Don't_.' but I can never be sure because I could have imagined it. It was too fleeting to tell.

"I uh…" I let the water slide down my throat as I drink, thankful for the borrowed time. "Wow." I make myself laugh. "You really know how to surprise someone."

"Well, you really know how to make a guy nervous." He cups my face, kissing my forehead. His gentleness surprises me everyday. It was something I never got used to but found that I liked it. "I know you're self sufficient and that this is a big step. Over the past year I've always seen you take care of things exceptionally well, but isn't it about time you let me take care of you? I'd really like to." He kisses me again and I hear Blaine let out a low whistle when I kiss him back.

Cue the music. Can you hear the audience go 'Aww'?

I pull away, still flushed from his touch. I've forgotten how he made me feel and I feel guilty for that. But then something else overrides the guilt. I look into his expectant blue eyes and I can't help it. He'll be good for me.

"Yes." My smile can almost reach my ears. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Fade out.  
---

The last scene now.

I glance at my left hand, admiring the sparkling diamond ring. I adjust my earrings, glancing at the mirror. I check my makeup. Perfect. Dress? Perfect. I was excited to see the play, after all. I wanted to look my best.

My phone rings.

"Kathryn?"

"Hey, where are you? I don't want to be late."

Sebastian's quiet for a while. "I'm not going."

"What?"

"I said I'm not going."

"Why not?" I demand, glaring at the mirror and imagining I was glaring at him.

"Because I don't feel like it."

"I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"Doing what, Kathryn?"

"This! You know what I'm talking about. Don't pretend you're fucking ignorant, Sebastian." I reply, resentful. "Well, you know what? Thank you. Thank you for reminding me what a completely unreliable bastard you are."

"Kathryn, wait--"

"Wait? For you? What makes you think I'd be stupid enough to do something like that again?" I slam the phone, hoping it makes him partially deaf.

I receive a call from Derrick after that. Sebastian's given him his ticket.

* * *

A/N: After 35 chapters, I think by now you get the gist of it. Many, many thanks for keeping up with this even though there are days wherein you like this more than I do. And by now, you'll also know what I'm going to say. Review. Now. Inspire me to write the next one faster than I should because right now I can honestly tell you that I have no idea what the next chapter's going to be about.  



	37. Rest

**Part Two, Chapter 10: Rest**

**  
rest 1 rest rɛst rɛst**

**verb [ intrans. **

**cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength**

_-  
This girl only sleeps with butterflies._

-"Sleeps With Butterflies" by Tori Amos

"Kathryn, are you sure about this?"

"About what?" I ask Elle, annoyed. She continues reading the documents innocently, frowning once in a while to run her finger over a particular sentence as though to reread it. "Of course I'm fucking sure about it, why wouldn't I be sure about marrying Derrick? Besides, it's not like we're getting married tomorrow. I mean, we never even talked about—"

Today her eyes are an even mixture of blue-gray, but her smile tipped the scale to the latter shade. She points at the document she was reading. "Actually, I was asking you if you were sure that this is the account you wanted me to personally attend to. But thank you for the added information, not that it was asked for in the first place."

"Oh." I pick up my pen, feeling like a moron. "Yes, that's it. Logan Dermot, right? He's supposed to be a hardass."

"No problem." She shrugs, closing the folder. There's a knock on my office door and we both look up at the interruption. A blonde with hair the color of snot when a person is sick (I know that's such a graphic and unappealing way to describe such a thing but aesthetically, she is rather mousy) comes in, carrying a pile of folders. Her name comes easily to me. Melanie Foster. Well, F something. I might have stored that information in the area of my brain where everything is of no importance to me.

"Ms. Merteuil," she beams, looking every inch of the newly graduated student attempting to look professional and yet because of the lack of money, only succeeds in making herself look like a pathetic wannabe. She probably snatches discount clothing with a designer tag without checking if it looks stupid just so she can say she's wearing branded clothes. "I've just gone over the figures with Accounting downstairs and it looks like the budget for the Louis Vuitton campaign has been increased."

I fake a smile, looking pleased. "Thank you, Melanie. I'm glad you've been working hard, in fact, I'm sure that at this rate, you'll be running your own agency years from now."

Her ears turn red. Elle hides a grin behind her hand, having recognized my phony tone. "Thank you. Gosh, Ms. Merteuil, that's nice of you to say."

"Mhmm." Elle drawls. "Golly gee willikers, Kathryn. That _is_ mighty nice of you."

I glare at her.

Melanie looks like she's about to start jumping up and down, her rapid fire speech often makes me question whether or not she's on a constant stream of speed. Her pasty arms clutch the folder tighter, a ghastly yellow against the drab gray business attire she wore. What was that? Calvin Klein from the 90s?

"Yes, it really is." Her large head bobs up and down. Quack little blonde hick duck; are you by any chance a lesser attractive version of Kansas? "I mean, I really admire you, Ms. Merteuil. And you, too, Ms. Fox."

"I'm sure." Elle drips syrup, sweet to inhale but poisonous to taste.

"Think nothing of it." I remark generously. "One day, I'm certain you're going to be where I am."

"Gosh!" Melanie giggles, shyly shuffling her feet. "Thanks again! Well, I better go. I just wanted to deliver these to you, I ran into Toby from Accounting and I thought I'd give these to you myself!"

Where's the basket of homemade cookies that came with that Southern girl twang? I half expected a singing telegram the moment I opened the folder.

"Peachy." Elle cuts in, clearing her throat. Her cordial expression turns into something else that makes Melanie step away and leave. As soon as the door closes, Elle picks up the folder and wrinkles her nose. "She went all Legally Blonde on you. The entire thing smells like her sickening designer reject perfume. Anyway, what the fuck was that about? Is she your new best friend? Will you tell me that you're planning to wear plaid and overalls, put your hair in braids, and plant something with that loser?"

"Relax, I was just being nice."

She looks like she just swallowed something disgusting. "Nice? You? Please. That's not being nice. You're just sugarcoating too much crap on that girl."

"So? It gives me a good reputation. Everyone adores me."

"Kathryn, people like Melanie Foster have to face the sad reality that they're just never going to get anywhere no matter what they do. Someone's bound to tell her the truth soon, so why not save her from living a lie and tell her how incompetent she is and how the mere sight of her makes you sick? What the hell is with that shit about her running her own agency? Sure. She can run one… within the boundaries of her imagination."

Her bluntness makes me laugh, and sooner or later she also cracks a smile. "You know what's wrong with you? You're too nice these days. Is it that rock on your finger that's gotten you all endearing and sweet?"

"Oh, go fuck yourself."

"Well, it's true you know. The woman I used to know did the most despicable, underhanded, and totally amusing things. Go on, you know you want to. Call her back and help the poor girl's delusion come to an end."

I stare at her dead on. "That's a challenge?"

"Take it the way you want to." Elle leans back, smiling mockingly.

"Fine." I press the button, asking my secretary to call Melanie in.

She does return, positively glowing. "Hello again, Ms. Merteuil—"

"Melanie, you're fired."

Her smile freezes. Her eyes dart wildly around the room, as though expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell her she was punk'd. That was the show's name, right? Blaine used to watch it a lot and he wouldn't stop telling me about it until I threatened to tell everybody that we had fucked. Oh, please darling mousy blonde. As if you were that important.

Elle watches her in rapt interest the way one would watch a television show. Or the way a scientist would observe a rat he had just injected with something poisonous. Perhaps that would be a better analogy for her.

"Um… what?"

"As my friend very well pointed out, it would cruel to further lead you on. The only reason why you're getting paid near to nothing was actually because that's all you deserve. While you may have your moments of marginal intelligence, I'm afraid that perhaps you're here because you're the source of amusement in the office with your poor taste in fashion and obvious eagerness to kiss my ass. Well, there's also the fact that I saw your boyfriend after I interviewed you."

'Mmm I remember him." Elle comments wistfully. "How on earth did you manage to get that very attractive man?" She raises her eyebrows, smiling conspiratorially. "Did you pay him?"

"Wha-huh?"

"Maybe you should add a little twang, Kathryn." That dark haired bitch named Elle suggests, watching closer upon realizing that Melanie's cheeks had started to quiver. "She might understand better."

"I don't do twangs." I wince haughtily. "Anyway, I just wanted to fuck your boyfriend so I decided to hire you. Plus the thought of sneaking around like that sounded like fun and since I sensed your desperation, I figured why not? You'd get a salary that's next to nothing and you'd like it. Plus, I got to screw Johnny while you were off getting me a cup of coffee. Why do you think I asked you to go to a Starbucks outlet an entire world away from the office?"

"You… you…" Melanie's eyes start to tear.

Elle turns to me. "Oh, you fucked him too? So did I. How many times?"

"You both what!" The blob of pasty jelly screeches shrilly.

"Twice." I shrug. "It was over a year ago though, and he started getting clingy."

"Hey, me too."

"You were with Derrick then."

"Why do you think we broke up?" Elle's eyes are grayer than ever, a succubus that preys on the misery of hopeless losers.

"You fucking whore, he fucked us both at the same time?" I tell her in mock anger.

"Oh, don't worry. I made him wash before he touched me."

"M-Ms. Merteuil, please…"

"Oh, you're still here." I glance at my most recent ex employee, feeling that strange surge of power come over me like an old friend I had missed dearly.

"You can't do this to me!" Melanie wails, clutching the fabric of her skirt. "You can't get away with this!"

"Actually, she can. Johnny actually showed me a video he had of you playing a very 'innocent' cheerleader. I suppose I liked your acting so much that I decided to get a copy of it." Elle bites her lower lip, relishing the kill. My sociopath friend. "You know, Kathryn once commented that you were a woman of depth… I immediately questioned her judgment, because to me you're about as deep as a puddle of water but upon witnessing how you stuck that baton up your… well, you know… I think Kathryn was right. You, Melanie dear," She whispers teasingly. "are indeed a woman of… _depth_."

By now all the blood is gone from her face. And then there it was again… that feeling. That superior, wonderful feeling that I'm holding on to her sanity and I can choose to clench my fists until she screamed in agony. I glance at Elle, who returns my gaze as though she knows what I am feeling.

Do it. Her gaze was hypnotic, almost seductive. I get a visual of her with her nails digging against Melanie's skin, waiting for me. _Do it, Kathryn. You know you want it. Isn't it about time you stopped being nice?_

Melanie's crying now. Pathetic twit, sobbing as though it would help. She reminds me of Cecile. A blonde Cecile. Cecile Caldwell. I remember her well, I remember that day well for two reasons. First of which is that the day of Cecile's downfall was the day Conner came back. The second reason is the pleasure I had derived from that experience. Mm. One never forgets such things, as Sebastian had mentioned.

"Leave my office now and if you even think of bringing this to court, let me assure I can do more damage to you than that disgusting, kinky video. I can file a countersuit for your embezzlement, among other grievances I might happen to find." I smile complacently.

Melanie visibly slumps. An ugly miserable dwarf in front of two giants who had the ability to step on her and not feel a thing when she dies. "But…why?" She asks, stricken. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Oh, don't blame yourself. It was me." I reply easily. "It's only now that I'm reminded of the immense thrill from all this."

"You bitch." Melanie blubbers, wiping the snot from her nose. "You're a psycho!"

"Hmm… not really. That would be her." I gesture towards Elle, who grins at Melanie. "I really would just prefer the term bitch if you don't mind." I give her a clearly forced smile. "Now, you've wasted enough of my time, already. Please leave."

She does, mumbling threats I knew she could never go through with because beneath the layers of flab and the gross taste in clothing, she's weak. People like her had no right to take part in this agency. Weak blonde hicks did not deserve my time then, and they certainly did not deserve my time now.

"You see?" Elle speaks up. "Wasn't that nice?"

"Surprisingly, yes. Thank you. I needed that."

---

"Hey, it's Conner. Please leave a message and I'll return your call as soon as I can. Thanks. (The rest of the message is in Spanish, presumably to address his non English-speaking friends and family).

_Beep._

"Conner, this is the third message I've left. It's Kathryn, by the way, in case you've forgotten. (Sarcastic and annoyed) Do you have any idea how big of a deal this is? I usually get a call after my first message." A succumbing sigh upon realizing that Conner is not going to pick up. "Where have you been? Sorry I sound like a needy girlfriend but I miss you." Silence. "Call me back."

Click.  
---

"You've reached my voicemail. I'm not available right now, but leave a message, along with your name and number, and I'll call you back."

"Kathryn?" Sebastian's voice is recognizable. "Are you avoiding me?"

Click.

---

"Ms. Merteuil, Mr. Conner Valmont on line 3 for you."

I snatch the phone. "Hello?"

"I knew it." The deep voice adjusts. Becomes cocky. "So you are avoiding my calls."

"Sebastian?"

"Oh, great. You still remember my name."

"Fuck off."

"You can't marry him."

"Excuse me?"

"You can't marry him. Marry Conner if you want to get hitched, for fucking sake."

"Conner's already married."

"So you've considered it?" He presses like a fucking eager tabloid reporter.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Why didn't you and Conner hook up? I've always thought you would."

What was it about these stupid Valmonts? Conner thinks the same thing about me and this blond cocky bastard. Now this blond cocky bastard apparently thinks the same thing, with a slight change in the male character. Make up your mind, assholes. Do you want me or not? I'm not going to be around for long.

"We did. We fucked after you left. In fact, the moment I realized you were gone, I immediately jumped into bed with him."

He doesn't reply.

"Well, that's what you want me say so I'm just giving it to you. Are we done now? I have work to do."

"If you'd just let me finish, Conner and I would like to talk to you."

Well that certainly gets my attention. They've actually been talking? "You and Conner… meaning at the same time?" I ask, surprised.

"Yes, Kathryn. At the same time. Are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Why?"

"Just be there, okay?" He tells me the name of the restaurant. "Do you need me to pick you up?"

"Do I look like I don't have any other means of transportation?" I retort bitingly. "Wait. Ask Conner to pick me up."

"Oh, so if it's Conner it's okay." Sebastian mutters sullenly. "But if I offer, you'd just tell me that you don't need me."

"Stop being such a jealous fag, Sebastian. You have to get over yourself and accept the fact that your cousin's important to me in ways your horny little mind can't comprehend."

"And I'm not?"

"You, dear brother, are a fucking ailment that refuses to leave my body."

"So you admit I'm still in there somewhere…"

"Just please tell Conner, okay?"

"I'm not your fucking assistant." He answers, sounding bitter. "Tell him yourself."

"Please, Seb?" I lower my voice so it sounds sincere. "Please?"

He's quiet for a while.

"You owe me." I remind him.

He sighs. "You're always going to throw that in my face, aren't you?"

"Always and forever." I chirp mockingly.

---

Later that night, I open the door to find Conner standing there. He has this solemn expression that makes me nervous, and as usual, he's dressed perfectly. All manners and charm, blue blooded Conner. For a while we just stand there awkwardly. I clutch my purse. He looks at his shoes.

"I'm sorry." He finally talks, his eyes peering into mine. "For what it's worth, I missed you too."

I nod and tiptoe so I could reach his mouth for a kiss. Feeling slightly foolish, I wrap my arms around him and he laughs a little. He kisses the top of my head. Sebastian is not really my _brother_, Conner is.

"Come on, princess." I feel his arm resting on my back as he gently coaxes me to extricate myself from him. "We'll be late."

---

I admit it. They both look handsome and I can almost feel how all the other women in the room keep staring at them. Dark and light, yin and yang. Black and blond curls, dark and light blue eyes.

"I'll cut straight to the point." Sebastian clears his throat, picking up his wine glass. "We both agreed that it would not be in your best interest to marry Saxton."

His words take a while to sink in. They what? They were like a gay couple that had a teenage daughter dating a guy they didn't want. I glance at Conner and while his mouth quirks up in a smile (as though sharing my thoughts), his eyes tell me that he shared the same sentiment.

"Excuse me?" I laugh openly. "Are you kidding me?"

"Kate, Derrick's a nice guy but I just don't want you rushing something like this." Conner answers before Sebastian opens his mouth, probably knowing that he would have retaliated with an insult.

"Conner, you know I love you but you're not the best person to talk to me about getting married. You're not exactly getting the award for Groom of the Year, having slept with me during your engagement."

Sebastian chuckles but he suddenly quiets down when I glare at him.

"And you," I snap. "like I told you, you have no right in meddling with my life like this. If I wanted to marry him, I would. You screwed me over, I should have killed you by now."

"This isn't about us!" He argues, showing impatience. "Not us," he indicates himself, and then me "Or _us_!" he motions at the three of us. "You told me you didn't want to end up like Tiffany, but take a fucking look in the mirror."

"I'm not marrying him for his fucking money." I'm imagining the steak knife impaling him by now. "I'm self sufficient, you asshole. Don't ever compare me to her!"

"Kathryn…" Conner interrupts, placing his hand on his forehead as though he suddenly had a headache.

"I can't believe you let him talk you into doing this. You know Derrick. He's a good man, Conner. He's your fucking friend and you're stabbing him in the back. Unbelievable."

"I'm not letting Sebastian talk me into anything." Conner answers, his voice dropping several degrees. Cold Conner. "I'm capable of forming my own opinions and I'm not like one of your former moron boyfriends, Kate. Nobody manipulates me and it's insulting for you to say that."

Sebastian looks astonished at his hard-edged tone. He isn't the only one. I even cringe.

Conner's face softens. "I'm sorry." He says. "I've been through a lot lately… I'm just saying that I don't think it's a good idea, that's all."

"What would you have me do?" I ask him in contempt. "Pick one of you? Marry one of your cousins? Keep it all in the fucking family?"

"Don't take this out on us." Sebastian answers for Conner. I guess it's his turn now. Did they practice this routine or something? "That's what we're saying."

"Oh my god." I gape at them in amazement. "You know, this is one of those very rare instances wherein I see the reason why you're related. This is not about the three of us, I can't believe you're both so thickheaded to actually agree that this was the case."

"He doesn't know you." Conner looks at me. "You can't possibly want to commit yourself to someone who has no fucking idea who you are."

"And at the same time, I don't want to commit myself to someone who does." Hah. They both wince this time around. "If you insist on talking about this, I'm going to leave."

"Wait." Sebastian holds up his hand in a gesture of surrender. "You know we both—"

"Let me guess," I cut in, sneering. "You both _love_ me?"

"Kathryn, please try to think about it. I don't want you doing something you're going to regret." Conner tells me.

"I've already done _someone_ that I regret." I reply, my tone sweet yet filled with malice.

"See? I told you that you should've talked to her alone. She hates me." Sebastian shrugs, resuming his meal.

"I don't hate you." I roll my eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic. I'm just annoyed at you for ditching me the other night."

"The play?"

"Yes."

"Well, you must have had a grand time with your fiancé."

"It's not that. It's just… well, forget it."

"No, you were going to tell me something." Sebastian presses me. His blue eyed questioning look makes me smile. How he could switch from arrogant jackass one minute to someone whom you could actually have a decent conversation with still manages to amaze me from time to time.

"Derrick's not exactly a fan of the arts."

"Oh." Sebastian nods before grinning sheepishly. "Sorry. I just thought you would have liked to go with him instead. You seemed to be happy during lunch that I figured it'd be better."

"And I tried calling you to see if you'd go with me." I remark, pointedly glancing at Conner.

He mirrors Sebastian's smile. The gay waiter who had been ogling him nudges his co-worker and they duck into the privacy of the kitchen to giggle. "I told you, I had things to attend to."

"Which is why you've been ignoring me?"

He stops grinning. He and Sebastian exchange a look that I did not like. My stomach drops.

"Conner?" I call his attention, letting him know I was waiting for an explanation.

"I'm leaving." He licks his lips, before nibbling on his upper lip.

"Oh. Business thing?"

He shakes his head. "Alana."

The wife. He rarely talks about her, but the moment he says her name, I know that it's something bad.

"She's pregnant, Kathryn." His eyes plead with me, trying to get me to understand. "I found out the day after you got engaged."

"I don't think I understand what you're saying…" My mouth feels like it belongs to someone else. Like my tongue is swollen and heavy and foreign. "I mean, she can have the baby here. Besides, you still have to work here, right? With Sebastian and Derrick?"

"We've worked it out, they can handle things without me for a while. We're going to Barcelona to raise the baby there. I don't want for it to grow up here."

"Exactly how long is 'a while'?"

He remains quiet.

"Conner, you can't do this to me."

"You're fine now. You don't need my constant presence anymore, right?" He jokes weakly, his long lashes moving as he blinks.

"Yes, I do. You know I do."

Sebastian frowns.

"I'm sorry." Conner tells me quietly. "You're getting married and I'm having a kid. Things were bound to change sometime."

I place my fork down. Conner just stares at his food. Sebastian glances at the two of us before letting out a breath. He also places his utensils down and leaves his half finished steak alone. He loosens his tie and raises a hand to call the waitress. The infatuated bitch can't meet his eyes while he asks for the bill.

"You know, if you were like this throughout the course of your relationship—whatever the hell that is—then I have the impression that I would have slit my wrist if I actually witnessed every moment you both had together." Sebastian signs his name without looking at the actual price. "My treat, I'm sure you're both about as cheerful as a Goth chick."

"Thanks."

"No problem, cousin." He answers easily. "Okay, I'm getting really tired of this. Let's just lay it out and get rid of the huge elephant that's been sitting on the three of us for years. I fucked Kathryn, and you did as well. Clearly we both felt something for her, but I did a shitty thing and I left her. From that point, I don't know what happened. Now, she's engaged and we don't like it, but if you," He turns to me. "think that we're just being egotistical assholes and that this is the right decision, then Conner and I will just have to deal with it. It's all fucking tragic, full of conflict, and quite tiring. The point is, we need a break. Let's go out tonight."

"You… want to go clubbing?" I question him dubiously. "Seriously?"

"We're not going clubbing. There's a party for some magazine. What was it? Vogue? Elle? Something like that, anyway, we could go."

"Are you kidding? Do you honestly think I feel like partying?"

"Actually," Conner speaks. "I think I have an idea where we could go."

---

Let me return to my earlier method of telling you this part of my life. You're in the movies now, welcome back.

It opens, or rather ends, since this is the last scene, like this.

The sky looks bleak with the sadness of the cold night. We are standing on top of everything else, and everything else is beneath us. I sound redundant, but it also feels that way on a more figurative level. The topmost floor of Conner's hotel had been used for some sort of lavish function. Perhaps a wedding? I didn't know. By now, the place was deserted and there were only the empty tables, chairs, and the empty stage as a reminder than people had once been there. It is so high up that the height drowns out the usual noise of the city.

Conner places a bottle of red wine on the table, along with three glasses. Sebastian's leaning over the railing, immersed with the view. I'm seated near Conner. The temperature makes me shiver and he pauses from his task of removing the cork so he can remove his jacket to drape over my shoulders.

"This is nice." Sebastian calls out, his back still to us.

Conner kisses my cheek. At least, it felt like a kiss. It was so soft that it felt like he never even touched me. After making sure that I was okay, he removes the cork easily and pours wine into the glasses. The thought of his impending departure worries me, because it's Conner and I've had him for the past six years. It's difficult to suddenly not have him around. The wind tousles his hair. The moon makes him glow. Vampire Conner. My Conner.

He gives me a smile. Slow, beautiful. My savior. The European version of Prince Charming, as Sebastian said. His younger, blond haired blue eyed version joins us, sitting beside me as though we had been doing this for a long time. They both feel familiar next to me, not just because I've slept with them, but because I knew them more intimately than Selena and Alana would ever know them.

I'd spare you the discussions we've had that night simply because they ranged from anecdotes to amusing memories we've had as children or as teenagers. We talked and drank and talked some more, because the alcohol emboldened us and the night wrapped its arms around the three of us like we were old friends. Conner was going to leave 'for a while' and I wanted him to come back. Sebastian didn't talk about Selena and I didn't talk about Derrick, Conner never mentioned his wife or his baby for the rest of the night. They retold stories of their conquests while I remained nostalgic about my own tendencies to ruin lives simply because they got in the way of my social standing. There was touching. I hugged Conner, liking the hard, cold marble body. Sebastian placed an arm around my shoulders as he leaned to whisper a secret, a joke, about how one time he saw his Aunt Helen catch Conner diddling the hot maid and how Conner had turned bright red and fumbled for an excuse (Conner was sixteen, Sebastian was ten). His murmured laughter warmed me as he continued, saying that after that, Aunt Helen had spoken to him to warn him about sex, and how it should be done only when you're married.

It went on like that. Cue the music. We would look great onscreen. Young, successful, and good-looking. Smiling. Close. Talking. Intimate murmurs of old friends who left whatever baggage they had behind. We'll get it later. We'll be angry again, or vindictive, or both. You would think we're fascinating, leading a life like this. Acting the way we do. You'll find the tension interesting, all these intertwining strings that connected us all. In all likelihood, there's going to be angst. That frustration with something that should happen but wouldn't, or something that could happen but shouldn't. I don't know. Pick one. Pick all of them. They're all going to happen. In fact, they're all happening right now, it just depends on how you see it.

Goodnight.

* * *

A/N: This has been said so many times that you're all going to get sick of it but: Thanks. Seriously. Still with me on this train ride that's lasted for soooo long? Hahaha. As much as I'd like to reply to each review, I'm afraid I'm tired and I think that there are some messages I might have already answered, whether it's my big THANK YOU or something else. 

Just a shout out:

littlegrouse: Wow. That's one of the longest reviews I've gotten. I don't mind that you talk a lot when you review, it's actually quite nice to read. I'm sorry for deleting Things Unsaid, it just annoyed me too much. I've been deleting a couple of stories these days. Thank you, I'm quite proud of my characters. Oddly enough, this isn't 'the' story for me. I'd say An Unlikely Story still has the top spot, along with The Aftermath and The Game. :) Oh, and for the record: I always don't know what happens next. Haha

Skyz: I'm stuck with a 1st person POV so as much as I'd like to create a scene that has them talking about her, I'm going to have to leave it up to the reader's mind since this POV limits me to K alone. :) I've been lucky to have Seb's notebook though, it gives me a chance to mix things up once in a while with his POV.


	38. Surrender

** Part Two, Chapter 11: Surrender**

**surrender səˈrendər səˌrɛndər səˌrɛndə**

**verb [ intrans. **

**cease resistance to an enemy or opponent and submit to their authority :**

**• ( surrender to) abandon oneself entirely to (a powerful emotion or influence); give in to**

-

_But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started. But with Catherine there was almost no difference in the night except that it was an even better time_.

-An excerpt from "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway

My lungs are so starved for oxygen but I can't stop running. Cold sweat breaks out on my clammy skin, and my feet are out of control. I'm running blindly, streaking through the busy streets in my inexplicable haste.

_Please just one second, please Kathryn please stop running._

What was I wearing? Certainly not my heels, because my feet would have died by now. Sneakers? Was I wearing _sneakers_? Were these the ones Elle convinced me to buy when she was trying to get me to try Karate with her? Why was I wearing these?

My breathing is coming out in short gasps, and I know that if I stopped running, I'm going to want to lie on the ground to recover. I don't care how dirty it is. I need to stop. Stop moving, goddamn it!

My legs are burning now, my mouth has gone dry. I close my eyes, hoping that the uncertainty will trick my body into slowing down, to be more cautious. It doesn't. My feet aren't my own, and I continue running.

_Ouch._

My body collides with something warm, and my eyes open in surprise. It's Sebastian. He's smiling at me as I lose my balance. He catches me just as I was about to fall and takes out his handkerchief to wipe the sweat from my face. When he's convinced that my face was dry, he takes my face and kisses my forehead.

"Take it easy, sweetheart" He says, his voice deep and affectionate. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"What are you doing here?" I'm too confused to be disgusted by the use of that gross pet name. "Where are we? What's going on? Why am I running?"

"You forgot to ask why you're wearing what you're wearing." He replies, taking my hand. My knees still feel wobbly and I had to lean against him when we start walking.

"What are you…" I look down and gasp. I was wearing my Manchester Prep uniform, the white, button down blouse, the awful green plaid skirt that I had shortened so it would be a few inches above my knee, and the blazer. "What the hell am I wearing??"

"I think you know what that is, although you look better in it now that you did six years ago."

"Sebastian, what the hell is going on here?"

"This is your dream, Kathryn. You tell me."

"Where are you taking me?" I demand, trying to yank my hand away from his. "This is fucking crazy. Maybe I'm going to end up like your nutjob girlfriend, huh?"

"Then I'll wait for you, too. You know I can, but I won't. What's the point? When you go to a mental hospital, you'll be married."

"What makes you so sure, asshole?"

"Because you're getting married and Saxton's in a hurry to make it official."

"Why?"

We enter a building I haven't seen before and was pretty much sure that this wasn't even anywhere near New York. The doorman was the same guy in my own condo, but he greets Sebastian cordially.

"Good day, isn't it, Mr. Valmont?"

Sebastian smiles politely, slinging an arm around my waist. "Sure is, Bob."

"They're all waiting for you." Bob (apparently, that's what his name was) replies, gesturing at the elevators.

"Who's waiting for us?" I ask Sebastian, but he doesn't reply. He only ushers me inside the elevator. We listen to the annoying classical music for a while, since the elevator seems to be taking forever to get to the 80th floor.

"Sebastian, why is he in a hurry to make it official?"

"Because he knows that you want someone else. He wants you to marry him before you can change your mind." He sighs, looking at his Rolex. "We're late. It took you long enough to run, Kathryn."

"Well, excuse me!" I huff. "It's not like I run on a daily basis!"

Sebastian laughs, and then his eyes turn serious. He looks at me, his gaze moving downwards.

"What are you doing?" I ask, feel self-conscious. "Stop that."

"Close your eyes." He says quietly, and when I try to reply, his hand closes my eyes for me. His hand feels warm, and I can't help but touch it.

"Are you undressing me with your eyes?"

"No." He leans closer, brushing his lips against my neck. "I wanted it to be right for when we get there."

"Get where?"

"You'll see." He laughs, kissing my cheek. "Now, open."

I open my eyes. He's wearing a suit, and his face looks younger. This is his seventeen-year-old version. And what was I wearing? The Dégat prom dress he'd gotten me.

"Happy prom, sis." He takes my hand to kiss my palm. He looks radiant, unburdened by anything at the moment. "You look so beautiful. I'm sorry I never really saw you in that dress."

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirrored walls of the elevator. My hair was shorter, cut in the way it had been when I was seventeen. There was a beautiful corsage on my wrist, and it hadn't been the one Carmine had given me.

"Sebastian, this is crazy—"

_Ding._

The elevator opens to my house. What the fuck? My old house, the one I shared with Sebastian. It looked like there was a party, and everyone seemed to be there. Faces and voices swim before my senses, but the only ones I saw were the people who had an impact in my life. Annette Hargrove was there with a little blond boy, possessing the most disarming smile that suspiciously looked like Sebastian's, and so were Cecile and Ronald, who were laughing and conferring with each other. Selena Wade was there, as mysterious and as beautiful as ever, wearing a dress designed by her famous uncle, I'm sure. She looked older than me as she spoke to Elle. Alana and Conner were there as well, although as soon as we stepped into the room, Conner's eyes were focused on me. Blaine was getting a drink.

"There she is!" A familiar voice booms, and I jump in surprise. My grandfather walks regally, with his salt and pepper hair and distinguished gait. My smile was the widest then, and I let go of Sebastian's hand for Papa to hold on to me.

"You look so grown up." He beams, looking handsome. "And beautiful!" Congratulations on the engagement, my darling granddaughter."

"Thank you." I kiss him, my jaw aches from smiling but I didn't mind at all. "Papa, this is Sebastian Valmont."

Sebastian shakes his hand, his eyes twinkling. "I'm one of the very few men she loves, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Being egotistic, aren't we?"

"What's new with that?" Conner's voice answers teasingly, hugging me from behind.

"And this is Conner Valmont, Sebastian's cousin."

Papa also shakes his hand and I watch in pride as they both stand there looking so perfect.

"The other love of her life." Conner puts in, grinning mischievously.

Papa's eyebrows rise, looking amused. "And how many of you are there, exactly?"

"Don't listen to them, Papa." I cut in, rolling my eyes. "They're just jealous. Come on, I want to introduce you to Derrick."

"Is that the other love of her life?" He asks Sebastian, who then looks at Conner. They both shrug.

"No, not really. She _is_ deluded that he is, though. You'll see, sir. Just look at how she looks at Saxton and then you can tell her what we've been trying to tell her all along. He's not the guy."

"Be quiet before I cut your dick off." I hiss, glaring dangerously at him.

"Why? You seem to have had a lot of fun riding it."

"Sebastian!"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Papa groans out loud, and I can't help but laugh. Sebastian and Conner wander into the crowd while I finally spot Derrick. I reach out and tug his arm, and just like always, he sweeps me into a big hug.

"What took you so long?" He chastises me, smiling.

"Papa, this is Derrick Saxton, my fiancé. Derrick, this is my grandfather, William Merteuil."

"It's an honor to meet you, sir." Derrick's smile seems to be forced. "Kathryn, we have to hurry up. We're already late."

"Late?" I frown, confused yet again. "For what?"

"We're getting married today, remember?"

"We're what?"

"We're getting married. Look, you already have your dress on… I wasn't supposed to see you before, but…" He sighs. "It's fine. We have to go now."

"But… everybody's here. We can't stay a while?"

"They'll all be there." He assures me, and before I can say goodbye to my grandfather, Derrick takes my hand and we push past the double doors.

We're in a church now, standing in front of the priest. The place is packed, and I'm wearing a white wedding dress with my hair now longer (since I was again, it seemed, twenty six years old) and pulled into an updo. Elle was my maid of honor and his best man was Conner. What the hell was Sebastian doing there, too? I thought you were only allowed one best man?

"Do you, Kathryn, accept Derrick, Conner, and Sebastian to be your lawfully wedded husbands…"

"Huh?"

The priest looks at me funny and repeats his question.

"Um… isn't there only supposed to be one groom?"

"Well, we all want to marry you." They say in unison, looking like they had been lobotomized and turned into Stepford husbands.

"You're married," I point at Conner. "You're an asshole," I point at Sebastian. "And you're not supposed to agree to this." I reprimand Derrick, annoyed.

"I'll take Conner if you don't want him." Elle speaks out.

"You're not having him!" I burst out.

"Just choose one of us then, if you don't want us to share you, then just pick one." Sebastian says reasonably.

"Conner's married and you have a girlfriend, Sebastian."

"Yes, I know. But I love you."

"It's the same for me, Kate." Conner says ruefully, running his hands through his thick black hair. "Always have."

"Kathryn," Derrick interrupts, looking sad. He takes my hands. Holding on to it with all his warmth and gentleness. "I'll take care of you. I'll never leave you, never disappoint you."

"Bullshit." Sebastian laughs harshly. "Are you even listening to that crap, Kathryn? That's not what you want!"

"I'm siding with Seb on that one." Conner replies.

"Don't listen to them…" My fiancé implores. "I do know what you want, Kathryn. Give me a chance."

Sebastian lets out a low growl, which meant he was getting seriously pissed off. He grabs my shoulders, bending me over the table. His hand cups my breast, his tongue licking my ear.

"Let me go!"

"This is what you want." He murmurs. "Rough sex. Rough men. Someone who's not afraid to call you on your shit."

The entire place is silent, as if we were just acting in a play. I shiver when his hand slips under the dress and he fondles my naked breast while rubbing his clothed erection against my ass.

"We're in a fucking church, Sebastian!" I yell angrily. "Stop that!"

"Like you ever believed in God?" He starts nibbling on my neck, his breathing growing heavier. "This fucking dress doesn't even suit you. I'd like to rip it off and fuck you senseless, like before."

"You're doing it wrong." Conner tells Sebastian.

I feel his presence leave as Conner shoves him. He spins me around until we're facing each other, and instead of launching into a fight with him, Sebastian only watches.

"She doesn't want just that." Conner begins, fixing my hair from when Sebastian had manhandled me.

"Oh, she wants puppies and rainbows, too?" Sebastian mocks him.

Conner shakes his head. "Don't be an asshole, Seb."

"I suppose you hold hands while you _make love_?"

"No, no… that's not what she wants." Conner kisses my forehead before kissing my mouth. I moan as he explores me with his tongue, and I begin to forget that we were even doing this in front of everybody I knew (and didn't know). "She wants this, too." He touches me through my panties and my eyes begin to grow heavy. "Just the right mixture, just the right man. Rough and gentle, that's what you fail to see. You're always playing this fucking game with her and sometimes she just wants to stop."

"You don't know shit about her!" Derrick snarls.

"I agree!" Sebastian moves to stop him but I hold up a hand, desperate for release.

"Fuck me." I whimper. "Like we did before."

"I can't believe you're choosing him!" Sebastian yells, slamming his fist against the table. Conner's erection pulls free from his pants and I take off my panties.

He's inside me now. I'm moaning like there's no tomorrow, and Sebastian and Derrick both look stunned.

"Oh, fuck… coming… now!" I hold on to him tightly, shaking.

"I guess I have my answer then." Sebastian's eyes look flat. As he turns to go back to Selena, call his name.

"I want you all." I tell him. "I can't choose."

"Tough shit, Kathryn." He sounds strange. Like he was about to cry.

I calmly put my underwear back on before coming to him. I place a hand on his shoulder but he flinches.

"You've touched his dick and now you're touching me." He says coldly. "Don't."

"Don't be jealous… come here…"

"I don't fucking want sloppy seconds."

"No… come on… I'd like to talk to you alone."

He hesitates, but before he can reply, the church and everything else disappears.

We're back in his room.

"So it's Conner after all." Sebastian speaks in a dull monotone.

"It's nobody." I slip out of my clothes and head to the bathroom for a shower. Naturally, he follows me. "Would you hand me another bottle of shampoo? This one's empty. It's in the—"

"I know where it is." He says crossly. "It's _my_ fucking bathroom."

"True, but it's _my_ fucking dream."

His gaze rakes over my naked body.

"Did you ever love me, Kathryn?"

"Just hand me the goddamn shampoo, Sebastian."

He doesn't reply, but I feel guilty when I realize how hurt he is by my callous remark.

"I don't understand it all." He says over the roar of the shower. "It's so easy for you to say that you love Conner, but you can't bring yourself to answer me when I ask you. Is he better than me? Is that it? Have I been deluding myself all these years?"

I shampoo my hair, and even though he's standing near the shower, he doesn't get wet. It's amazing how clearly I still hear him even though under normal circumstances, his voice would have been drowned out by the sound of rushing water.

"Kathryn, you have to answer me."

"No, I don't. I'm not obliged to do anything."

"You fucking cruel bitch." He gets into the shower with me, getting his clothes drenched. His hair sticks to his face, the water makes his plump lips shine.

"I'm cruel? That's amusing. I'm the one who left?"

He grips my arms tightly, the hurt look appearing again after my comment.

"Please let go of me, Sebastian. I'm taking a bath."

"I want you so much." He says in his broken, hurt voice. "And it's wrong. I should leave and never come back. You're not my sister anymore, but it's still wrong. Because I'll fuck it up, I know I will. I'll hurt you, or you'll hurt me. Isn't it like that? Hasn't it always been like that? Why can't it stop?"

"Why is the world round?" I quip nastily. "I don't know."

He raises his hand and he backhands me, but instead of it feeling painful, it isn't at all. It feels like I've had the wind knocked out of me, sure. But it's not a bad thing. The moment he does that, we leave the bathroom and we're back at the Rosemond Estate.

I touch my cheek, expecting to feel the after effects of his assault but I don't feel anything. He, on the other hand, had a bloody lip.

"What the hell happened to you?"

He smiles. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Not at all."

"It's okay." He nods, kissing me—I didn't pull away. "You will."

When I open my eyes, he was gone. A strong pang of disappointment surprises me by making its presence known. There's that feeling of loneliness again, the one I had gone through when he has left years before. I was in a place I didn't know again, some sort of afternoon party.

Two children—a boy and a girl— that were about Jessica's age come running towards me. They were the most beautiful children I'd ever seen, with blue eyes and dark hair.

"Mommy!" They both cry out, their voices sweet and innocent. They were hugging me as though I had left them for a long time and only came back now.

"Er." Was all I can really say, but their cherubic faces got to me and soon I bent my knees so I could see them better. The girl had a dimple on her right cheek, and her eyes had a hint of green in them. She might have Sebastian's mouth. The boy looks like Conner; with soft curls that I knew would one day drive women to their knees. He had Derrick's eyes though, bluer than anything I'd ever seen. They clamor over me, and I inhale their sweet baby scent.

"Mommy, we missed you! Daddy said you would be home last week and we waited!" The little boy whines, pouting.

"Daddy? Where's daddy?" _Better yet, who the hell was daddy?_

"Mommy, didn't you miss us?"

"I… did. I just wanted to see your daddy, that's all."

The little girl senses my hesitation and her lower lip trembles. Her chubby face forms into this heartbreaking look that makes me feel bad. I take her face in my hands and bring my face closer to hers as though I was looking for myself inside those beautiful blue-green eyes.

"You're so perfect." I tell her quietly, still astonished that these two breathtaking children came from me. "You both are."

"Daddy missed you a lot, you know. We heard him talking to Aunt Elle and he looked so sad because you left." The boy takes my hand and they both lead me into what I sensed was their house… well, technically if I was their mother, then it was also mine. We went through a series of hallways and stairways, a long adventure with these beautiful children I couldn't be annoyed at. The girl opens the door to a bedroom. I'm guessing this is where their daddy and me slept. We hear someone in the walk-in closet, rummaging through drawers. There's a suit neatly laid on the bed, complete with a silk gray tie. I looked for photos, anything to give me a clue as to who he was, but I didn't see anything.

In fact, I wasn't able to see anything from that point on because I woke up.

---

Elle looks unfocused. A rarity for someone who usually looks like she can split you in half in one precise sword stroke. She hasn't spoken to me since I told her Conner was leaving.

As I pass by her office, I see her with a dark haired man who strangely resembles Derrick only… better. Huh. Oh, those eyes. Those shoulders. Mind if I fucked him first?

The first thought that came to mind was that he was some sort of model. She's always loved fucking that kind, but the more I come closer, the more I realize that their affinity ran deeper than being fuckbuddies. They are standing so close the intimacy is unmistakable. I was even almost jealous of her, but then again, it's not like I wanted to add another one to the list.

"…you're sure?" His voice. Husky and rough, whoever this man was, I would have screwed him into the next lifetime if I hadn't been engaged or committed, for that matter. "Elle, Selena's not responsible for anything."

"Don't you side with her!" She replies, berating him with a shrewd look. "It's not like you weren't the one who found Keiko with a gun in her fucking mouth. That bastard deserves to have his mentally incapacitated daughter go permanently insane, after what he did to her!"

"I'm just saying…"

"No, you listen to me. You fuck her senseless. Split her in fucking two if you have to, I don't care. Ian, you promised me."

"But she's so… pure." He drags out the last word like it pains him to say it.

"Ian, please do this for me?" I recognize that look. Soft and smoldering, pleading. She's done that with men so many times (even a few clients) and the results are the same. "She's not pure. She's just waiting to snap again, believe me. She tried to kill Sebastian years ago, did you know that? She fucking tried to kill her boyfriend by ramming the car into a pole. It's just taken years to get it out of her system. I want to break her again."

She what! The pole? That was his _mental breakdown_??

"Elle…"

She licks her mouth and threads his black hair with her fingers. He looks at her and then sighs. She kisses him.

"You're fucking twisted, you know that?" He tells her, breathless.

"I suppose. Call me later, I have to go visit Conner to say goodbye."

"That Spanish guy?" Ian scowls.

"Don't be jealous."

"How can I be jealous of him? He doesn't belong to you."

"And you do?"

"Fuck you, Elle. I'll see you soon, I'm getting close to bagging her, you do know that? There's something about her that's just so endearing. So fragile and delicate even... It's hard to believe that she's capable of doing what you said she did."

"She _is_ capable of being a murderous psychotic mental patient. She just needs a little push. God forbid you _fall_ for her."

"Never."

If I closed my eyes and listened to them, I could've sworn it was like listening to me and Sebastian ages ago. As he turns to leave, I busy myself by pretending to look over a few stacks of mail. I angle my body so he would have no choice but to bump into me, and that he does.

Mmm. Up close he looks so much better. Eurasian, from what I can tell. He's like Derrick's big brother or something.

"Excuse me." He says, smiling.

"No problem." I answer breezily. "I'm Kathryn Merteuil."

"Ian Fox."

"Ian Fox? Elle's brother?"

"Yes."

"Her biological brother?"

He gives me a funny grin. "Yes."

_And you were making out with her??_ Okay. As gorgeous as he is, that's just wrong. I mean, I would've understood if they were stepsiblings. I would never have passed judgment on that one.

"Well, I'll see you." He smiles again before leaving. When I turn to go to my office, I realize Elle is watching me.

"Stay out of it." She warns. "I know what I'm doing."

---

It feels cold tonight. Colder than New York has ever been, in my opinion. Conner slings the strap of his carry on bag on his shoulder and turns to us.

I shiver slightly, slipping my arm through Sebastian's on impulse to alleviate the biting coldness that numbed me.

"It's too cold for crying, Kate." Conner teases me and I only roll my eyes at him.

"Me? Cry over you? Never."

"Good." He replies, tugging my arm. I let go of Sebastian and allow him to hug me. I didn't like the thick coats that we wore, because somehow the layers kept me away from him. "Now, let me lay on a few ground rules. No drugs or anything of the sort. Derrick's asked me to be the best man so I'm going to be at your wedding, regardless of how much I—"

"We." Sebastian interrupts.

Conner nods at his cousin, grinning. "Oh. Right. No matter how much _we_ disapprove of it. You can call me anytime you want, but try not to call me when you're in the middle of an OD because then I won't be able to do anything to help and you'll just die and drag me along with you."

"What am I, seventeen?"

"He does have a point, Kathryn. Regardless of your age, you still have a tendency to do stupid things. For instance, you're getting married to that dull man."

"Shut up, asshole."

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"What's going to hurt are your balls when I knee them in about five seconds."

"Why would you do that? You love my balls. Remember when you used to tongue them?"

"Jesus, Sebastian! Would you just get into the fucking car already before I kill you?" I raise my voice. "Is it possible for you to let me say goodbye to Conner for five fucking minutes without you interrupting us?"

Sebastian looks at his cousin. "You know, if she's only going to be this bitchy when you're gone, I'd much rather have you stay."

"To the car! Now!"

"Fine, fine." He surrenders, noticing that he is close to pushing me over the edge.

"Fucking idiot!" I mutter, my mood already lightening as soon as Conner gives me another one of his handsome, reassuring grins. "Will you marry me instead?"

"Of course I would, but you should let me do the asking." He bites his lower lip, looking at me regretfully. He takes his ring off, the one that bears the family crest. It's too big to fit my finger, but he presses it against my palm. "There. We're married now. Don't forget me."

"You're kidding, right?"

He doesn't reply. He only gives bends down to kiss me—really, really kiss me— and his fingers slip underneath my hair and get tangled within its strands. His mouth feels hot, a cherished cup of coffee in the middle of a cruel night.

"Always something." He tells me, squeezing me against him like he knows I needed to feel him through all these layers of clothing. "Don't forget, okay?"

I nod. I feign a smile. I keep nodding even after he's long gone and out of sight.

I'm more subdued when I go back to the car. Sebastian doesn't tease me. He doesn't talk to me even as we arrive at my place. He walks me to my unit, distancing himself yet still remaining close enough, like the way I needed him to be.

"Goodnight." He moves awkwardly to peck my cheek just as I open the door. "Call me if you need—"

"Stay here tonight." I'm surprised at myself the moment I say this. It's clear that he feels the same way. He even takes a step back, as though waiting for me to pull a knife out and slice him open or something. His eyes widen, and then they blink.

"Kathryn, do you think that this is wise?"

"No. In fact, I know I'm going to regret it sooner or later, but I'm saying it anyway. Stay the night. It feels weird that he's not going to come back for a while, that's all. I want the company. We don't have to fuck."

"I have to call…" He hesitates.

"Call her. You can even use my phone, I don't mind."

He takes a few cautious steps into my condo, looking out of place and uneasy.

"Coat there." I hand him the cordless phone. "Shoes on the left side. I bought Derrick some clothes but I keep forgetting to give them to him, so you can just change into those."

He fingers the phone buttons and from the way he looks at me, I can already tell what he's thinking.

"No, Sebastian. They haven't been used. You're not anybody's replacement. I can call him and have him stay the night if I wanted to, but you're the one standing here."

"What does this—"

"I don't know what it means. Can't we just stop trying to analyze every fucking thing? Weren't you the one that said we needed a break? _This_ is a break."

He looks at me for a long time. "Okay." He says, nodding. "I'll stay."

I leave him to call his girlfriend, taking a long bath. When I come out, he's seated comfortably in front of the television. He has his eyes closed and the TV was on a show that I didn't even recognize.

"I have a guest room, you know. You don't have to sleep there."

He opens his eyes and quietly follows me to a spare bedroom. His eyes probe mine, blue and endless. "Kathryn, would you hit me if I tried to kiss you?"

"Yes."

He traces a line down the side of my cheek. "Really?"

"I'd kill you."

"Would you make it a slow, painful death?" He whispers, holding my waist. "Something I'm sure to suffer immensely?"

"I hate to get into clichés, but it's something that'll make you wish you were never born." It's a miracle my voice didn't shake. Why the hell does he smell so good? Some kind of aftershave or cologne of some sort. Does he have a little bottle in his pocket and he splashed some on while I was taking a bath? Had he always been this hot? His curls that blond and his mouth that fucking perfect? Even the growing little hairs on his jaw didn't make him any less attractive.

"You don't want me to do this?"

Yes. No. Yes. No. "No."

_You knew this could happen._

"You're sure?" His tone is amused, his voice low. Like he knows all the thoughts that had been running through my muddled head.

"Of course I'm fucking sure. You're poison."

"Then why are you touching me back?"

"I am not."

"Really? Those aren't your hands on my chest?"

"That's just because I'm trying to stop you in case—" His mouth is suddenly on mine, pressing warmly. Wetly, while the alarm bells are all going off at the same time. _You idiot. You fucking horny lonely engaged slut._ And I'm kissing him back. In a few minutes, I'm going to slit his throat like I had done in my dream. If only that were possible.

It's like that's all he needs, me letting him into my mouth. His hands wander all over my body, my waist, my breasts, and then his mouth follows his hands.

He's found the off switch in my head. Everything goes black. I forget everything and everyone else. Selena, Elle, and that delectable but twisted man named Ian.

Then it explodes into a plethora of colors.

There's a sound as our hungry mouths part and we stare at each other. I raise my hands up and he smiles that little boy smile from so long ago. His skin brushes against my thighs as he takes the hem of my silk nightgown to pull over my head.

"God, you're beautiful." He says reverently, touching my hips.

"You think so? I've gained weight since I stopped throwing up."

"No, no…" He murmurs, stopping me from shying away from him. "it's better than before. Seriously. Your body's more gorgeous than I remember, you know."

"Good." I say, mollified. I think I was about to say something else but his mouth closes around one puckered nipple and then there's that off switch again. Colors explode. I want him. I need him. "Now take off your shirt."

His laughter is a wonderful sound that makes me feel something akin to happiness. This is something I don't understand at all, but then after that off switch I don't understand anything except the fact that I want to fuck him until I'm old and gray.

"Lie down." He whispers between kisses.

"Take your shirt off."

"Lie down and I will."

"Take your shirt off and I will."

"Same time?" He's trying not to smile. And failing, I might add.

"Fine."

He unbuttons his shirt and exposes that yummy looking toned chest. Was that a six-pack?

"Now lie down."

"Pants off, too."

"Not part of our agreement."

I gesture at the obvious bulge in his pants. "It's not like you don't want to."

"Why are you being so difficult? I can make you lie on that bed, you know."

"Oh, you're going to physically force me?"

"Nope." There's a scary gleam in his eyes. Mischievous. He places two fingers in his mouth before he slips it underneath my panties. "I have a better way of persuading you."

"Oh, fucking hell." There's no way to go around this. This man has the best fingers in the entire known world. Great. He wins. My back hits the mattress and he's standing before me in his half naked glory. Fucking tease. He fucking wins. I can't believe I let him win.

Panties off. Tongue inside.

Or I win. Twisting, writhing, his fingers open me up like he's peeling layer by layer off deliciously. He wins and I win. Oh, fucking hell… I win. We both do. It's tie. It's a fucking tie.

"Jesus!" He knows his way down there, that's for sure. "God! Holy…"

"You know, you're more religious than when we last did it." He muses, momentarily leaving my cunt.

"Fuck me." The line connecting my mouth and my mind has been cut. I'm trying to grab a hold of anything, this glorious feeling of sexual pleasure. "Please, oh god please…"

"Kathryn Merteuil, actually begging?"

"Oh screw this." I kick his chest and he falls with a surprised oomph on the floor. I straddle him, enjoying the turnabout in this power play. Belt off, button open, zipper down. Hello, my large, standing friend. Hasn't it been a while?"

"Kathryn, we need a con—" His eyes shut tightly when I sink into him. Then he groans, his fingers clutching me.

"On the Pill, don't worry about it. It's not like we haven't done it like this before."

I'll spare you the graphic details. I came, he came. Three times. He had me bent over. Then we did it sideways, him on top, me on top. After the second time, we were both so winded and hungry that we went to the kitchen to get something to eat. That went fine until he saw me licking strawberry jam (I have the strangest after sex craving) off a spoon. Needless to say, I sat on the counter and he fucked me senseless yet again.

"That was…" We both collapsed, taking the time to breathe. By this time we were back in the guest bedroom.

"Great." He finishes, sighing contentedly.

"You... that thing with your middle finger? How did you—?"

"Me?" Sebastian turns, his face red and glowing. "What about _you_? That thing with your tongue? Where the hell did you learn that?"

I'm flattered as I shrug, trying to play it off. "Well, you know… here and there."

"Same answer." He fluffs up a pillow, trying to find a good position. "Sex with you is just…"

"Mind numbing."

"I was going to say fucking intense but that's actually an applicable answer as well." He kisses me gently. "I've missed you, princess."

"Yes, well, I have a strong effect on men." I make a move to leave the bed but he stops me, pulling me into his arms. "Let go, Sebastian. I need a drink."

"Oh." He sounds defensive. "What, you're regretting this so much that you need a drink to convince yourself that it never happened?"

"Actually, you've pounded me until I came to that point wherein I was almost convinced that I've had enough sex to last me at least ten years. Simply put, you've worn me out. I'm thirsty."

He nibbles on my neck and I squirm when it tickles. "I'll get you a drink. Just stay here and rest, okay?" He takes my arm and kisses the red spot on my wrist from when he gripped me too tightly. "I want to have my way with you at least two more times before I give up."

"You're insufferable!" I call out, studying my wrist. He better not leave any marks. I hear him chuckle. He comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of water. ("Water? You've got to be kidding. I want my alcohol, damn it!" To which he replies: "Well, I don't want you to get drunk and fall asleep on me. Be glad I chose that over the Red Bull." Me: "I don't have any Red Bull." Him: "I know, consider yourself lucky. It's too late and too cold out for me to go out and get a few bottles.")

"So," he finishes his glass in thirsty gulps before setting it on the side table.

"So," I mimic him, daintily taking sip after sip.

"Kathryn, I just want you to know that…"

His cell phone rings. It's a distinct ringing tone that usually indicates it is Selena who's calling. Immediately, his smile falls. He scrambles to get it and I hand it over to him first.

"I'm not going to be angry at you." I tell him. "Let's just call it like it is, Sebastian. We needed this somehow. It doesn't mean that things are going to change."

"Hello?"

Even from here I can hear Selena in hysterics. She's sobbing.

"Hey… calm down… what's wrong?" His demeanor changes. He's hers again. "What? Baby, please don't cry… it's okay… yes, I know… I'm sorry… work ran late… now what did you do?"

He listens. His face loses its rosy glow. "You what?"

More faint sobbing.

"Shh… it's okay, I'm not mad. Who was he?"

Why do I get that sinking feeling that I knew what this was about?

"Ian. Ian who?"

He pauses. I fidget, wondering if I should tell him about Ian Fox.

"Of course not, Selena. I'm never leaving you, okay? I understand… just… just please don't hurt yourself."

We both jump when the cordless phone rings. _Derrick_. It's like they knew what we had been doing or something.

"Hello?" I move away from Sebastian, careful to keep my voice low.

"Hey… I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know you and Conner were close (_Darling fiancé, you have no idea_) and you must be a little sad that he's gone." He makes it impossible for me to hate him.

"I'm fine." I sigh heavily, as though it would show him that I've been spending the night alone. "Derrick, I've been thinking though…"

"Selena, look, I know this has been hard for you. I'm sorry for putting you through this, but you have to realize that I have to be here. No, you're not going to snap, okay? I promise… I'm going to take care of you. I'm not letting you go back to that place."

"What is it, Kathryn?" Derrick asks concerned.

"I want a long engagement." I tell him firmly. It isn't fair for him to marry me when I'm this insane.

I don't realize Sebastian's stopped talking. It takes me a few minutes to realize that he's just gaping at me.

"What?" I demand, covering the mouthpiece. "This has nothing to do with you. I want to be ready when I marry him, okay? I'm still marrying Derrick."

"I have to go." Sebastian tells Selena.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" I tell Derrick.

"I love you." Sebastian says after a moment's hesitation.

"I love you, too." I tell my fiancé. It sounds so wrong in my ears. In fact, it's actually the first time I've said it to him.

We both hang up.

"We're screwed, huh?" Sebastian asks me.

"Pretty much, yes."

"So… what now?"

"Now," I place the phone back on its cradle and pull up the covers. "We sleep."

"Seriously? You're not kicking me out?"

"No. Conner's gone and I don't feel like sleeping alone tonight." I turn off the lights.

"Why not Derrick, then?"

"Sebastian, we've been over this." I explain patiently. "You're here because you're here. Let's not get into the whole thing tonight, okay?"

"So were you thinking of Conner when I was fucking you, is that it? Because I kind of look like him?" He turns on the lights, turning my shoulder so I would face him.

"Do you really want to fight right now?" I yawn, brushing a long curl from his forehead. "Because I still feel pretty great from all that sex and I would much rather sleep with that than sleep with you slamming the door after screaming at me."

It works. The anger seems to vanish from his face. He smiles again, that old Sebastian smile that used to make me feel strangely queasy inside. "Why're you being so goddamn perfect tonight, Kathryn?"

"Mhmm." I close my eyes and fail to answer.

He nuzzles my neck. He kisses my earlobe.

"Okay, I'm letting it go." He whispers and I only grunt in response. "We'll deal with everything else tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

Lights off. The ache of losing Conner, my oldest and most trusted friend and sometimes lover, alleviates a bit as soon as Sebastian wraps his arms around me. Strange, really. If I didn't know any better, I could have said we were both still seventeen.

* * *

A/N: No, this isn't another dream. Same big thank you to everybody for putting up with this. Before you get all anxious, I'm not planning to add another major character. Ian's just a minor one. Mkay? Great.  



	39. Burn

**Part Two, Chapter Twelve: Burn**

**  
burn 1 bərn bərn bəːn**

**verb ( past and past part. burned bərndor chiefly Brit. burnt bərnt bərnt)**

**1 [ intrans. (of a fire) flame or glow while consuming a material such as coal or wood**

**• be or cause to be destroyed by fire**

_Oh such grace, oh such beauty._

_And lipstick and callous, and fishnets and malice._

_Oh darling, you're a million ways to be cruel._

"A Million Ways" by OK Go

Who the hell is shaking me so hard? Is that Derrick? Wait… no. I didn't spend the night with Derrick. I'm with Sebastian. Yes. That's who's annoying me right now. I just slept thirty minutes ago, damn Sebastian for being so fucking horny.

"Kathryn, Kathryn you have to wake up." The annoying man beside me insists urgently, his hand giving my shoulder a hard shake.

"Mmph." I mumble, trying to swat him away. "This isn't a good way to start the morning after, Sebastian."

The shaking stops. Then I feel him envelop me into a hug, his bare chest against my face and I can hear his heart thumping quickly.

"Now this is a little better." I smile, rubbing my cheek against his skin. "But you're still not getting any. I'm too tired."

"Kathryn, Conner's plane crashed." He tells me, his voice strained.

I'm wide-awake now. My eyes are the size of dinner plates, I push him away roughly, glaring at him. "That's not a good joke!" I yell. I'm waiting for him to smile and admit that it was a sick joke and that he just wanted to wake me up. His hair's still wet from the shower and he's just wearing a pair of boxers. I hear the TV blaring from here. His expression doesn't change. It's still serious, still in a pained grimace.

"No, Sebastian. Tell me it's not true…" I almost kneel on the bed. "I know you can be a bastard and that you can be jealous of him, but I'm telling you right now that just by doing this, I'm never talking to you again. I'm never fucking you again! Tell me you're lying!"

"It's on the news, Kathryn."

I place my hands on my eyes.

"And Isabel called me."

I nearly leap off the bed and sprint to the living room, where the TV was. I feel so cold today, there are goosebumps all over my forearms and I grab the blanket nearby to wrap around myself.

"…Flight 431 crashed on its way to Barcelona… Five have been found dead while the others are still missing… no known surivivors…"

"Fucking hell! Jesus! God no!"

Sebastian tries to hand me a glass of water but I knock it out of his hand. It shatters on the floor.

"I don't want a goddamn glass of water! I want you to get out! I should have asked him to stay instead of you!" I scream until my throat feels raw, trying to hit him even though he tries to reach out for me. I claw at him, rapidly blinking back these strange things that wanted to pour out of my eyes. "It's all my fucking fault! If I had chosen him, I know he would have left her! If I was going to marry him, he would still be here!"

"Kathryn, please just let me—"

"GET OUT!" I slap him when he holds my arm. He's bleeding a little from the scratches. "You should've stayed away, Sebastian! We were happy without you, you bastard!"

He manages to pin my arms to my sides and he shakes his head rapidly, coming closer. "You don't mean that."

"Damn right I mean it!"

"No, you don't!" He engulfs me into a warm hug until I'm drowning in the warmth of his body. His muscled, breathing, living body. While Conner was floating like deadwood. Pale skin too cold for it to be endearing, lips white.

"Seb, bring him back. Please bring him back." My struggle eventually stops, and seizing that chance, he pulls my limp body so I could rest on top of him. We rest on the soft couch with me on top of him. His hand caresses my back while the other one pulls the blankets over us.

"I need him back." I repeat blankly, staring at the TV and not seeing anything at all.

"Shh… it's okay…"

I don't hear him either.

It almost hurts to breathe as I sit up, heavily perspiring. The clock reads four in the morning, but I'm too busy hyperventilating to take note of it. Sebastian's snoring softly beside me and I wipe the remnants of what curiously feels like tears from my eyes.

"Fuck." I curse, swallowing thickly. I grab my cell phone and call Isabel, trying to get my heart to stop pounding so damn much.

"Kathryn, this is a nice surprise." She greets me warmly.

"Where's Conner?" I ask.

"Conner?" She's surprised at my sudden question. "I have no idea, he hasn't arrived yet."

"But the plane didn't crash?"

Sebastian groans and I watch as his eyes open. "Kathryn?" He rubs his eyes, sitting up. "What're you…" He stops talking when he sees that my eyes are red. "Hey… what's wrong?"

"The plane?" Isabel exclaims, shocked. "What are you talking about? As far as I know, Conner's plane arrives in Barcelona in a couple of hours, he's already called me from the plane."

"Oh… so… nothing's wrong?" My voice is now small and I feel like an idiot.

"Everything's fine." She reassures me. "But I'll tell him you called. He'd like that."

"Um… okay… thank you, Isabel."

Sebastian's looking at me as though I'd gone nuts. I hang up the phone.

"Kathryn, what the hell is going on?"

"Don't start."

"No, seriously. I'm concerned."

"I had a dream, okay? I dreamt that Conner's plane crashed and that he was dead. He was dead and it was my fault, because I should have chosen him."

He remains quiet for a few seconds. There are still impressions on his skin from the wrinkles of the blanket. "And… is this something you realized just now? That you should have chosen him?"

I leave the bed and go to the bathroom in my room. He doesn't follow. Maybe he's left.

I come out and am surprised to realize that he's made me breakfast. Let me repeat. Sebastian just made me breakfast. To be fair, it wasn't a gourmet meal or anything of the sort. I rarely have time to eat anyway. It was just a croissant and a glass of water, beside it a cup of coffee, and beside that, orange juice and tea. He's also freshly showered, and thankfully wearing something more than his boxers. Well, not really. Just a pair of pants.

"What is this?"

"Breakfast. I burned the croissant a little though, sorry. I didn't know what you drink with it, so I have water, coffee, tea and juice."

"You… huh?"

He smirks. Then laughs. "Like what Saxton said. Isn't it about time someone took care of you?"

"You're being… nice." Why do I keep waiting for him to do something wrong? This is strange for me.

"I'm capable of being nice, sis. You just won't let me." He takes a sip of the juice. I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. Then I take in the golden perfection that was his arms. He licks his mouth in satisfaction, scratching the line blond trail down his belly button. So it was a six-pack… Mmm.

"God, Sebastian. What're you going to do next? Throw water all over yourself like a goddamn male model?" I ask, irritated. I can already imagine him with the droplets running down his pectorals like some cheesy ad for some product.

He looks surprised. "What did I do?"

"Oh, shut up. You know what you're doing to me."

He shakes his head slowly, still unable to comprehend. "No… I don't. I just drank some juice, is there something wrong with that?"

"You're doing that thing!" I point at his navel accusingly. "You know, that thing!"

"What thing, Kathryn? Are you really this crazy in the morning?"

That thing wherein everything you do is a walking ad for sex!

"Oh, shut up. You know, when you did that." I slap his stomach and he groans.

"Why must you inflict pain so early in the day?"

"Why must you do that thing so early in the day?" I opt for the cup of tea, resting my body against his while he hugs me. Our earlier conversation seemed to have been forgotten.

"What thing?"

"You know, making me want to fuck you. Making me want to delay leaving. That thing."

"Oh…" He laughs softly. He's so fucking hot. I had forgotten how it had been like with him. "If it makes you feel any better, you're doing the same thing to me right now. You make the simple act of touching me into something that gives me such a raging… well, you know."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"What gave you the impression that I didn't think you were?" He kisses me. Orange flavored mouth.

"Well, Selena's skinnier, and she doesn't have this bump on her nose like I do, and—"

"Kathryn."

"What?"

He just looks at me.

"What??"

"I can't believe you're being so insecure about this."

"Your girlfriend looks like a fucking supermodel, Sebastian. Don't you remember that I used to throw up?"

"Yeah, but." He sighs. "You're just… there are a lot of things that I love about you. It's pointless comparing yourself to Selena."

"Because aside from the damaged head and the occasional breakdowns, she's practically perfect. She's fluent in several languages, and there's even something about her that I can't hate."

_ "You're_ fluent in several languages." He reminds me, looking amused.

"Well… yeah. But I can't speak to Conner in Catalan. She can. I've known him longer, been intimate with him, and she gets to talk to him like that." 

"This is about Conner?"

"No, I'm just saying."

"You want to know what I love about you?" Sebastian asks me seriously, trying to take away the crease on my forehead when I started to frown.

"I'm phenomenal in bed?"

"Well, yes… but it's not just that. I like that you can take care of yourself. You're not afraid. Saxton's right. You're fiercely independent; you get what you want when you want it. You know, when we were together I was always afraid I'd get left behind somehow."

"And you see the irony in that?" So was that it, then? Leave or be left?

He nods. "But what I love best is how you are when we're together. I love how you make this noise in your throat in bed, when you're asleep and I have my arm around you. Sometimes, when I move, you make that sound. Like you didn't want me to leave. It makes me feel good because you're the kind of person who survives on your own and yet it's like when you do that, you need me."

"I do not make a sound!"

"I love how your skin smells." He laughs at himself. "Crazy, right? I love how it feels when you let me touch you. It grows warmer. I love how you look at me, because it's like there's a smile hidden in there somewhere and it feels like I'm the one who's making you happy. I love it when you wear my shirt, because it makes you look fragile. Because it makes me feel like you're mine."

"Sebastian, you're not being fair."

"Why?"

"Because." It's my turn to sigh, rubbing the top of my head against his neck. "You're being nice. According to our routine, we were supposed to fight today so we can forget this thing ever happened."

"I'm sorry."

"And you're also going to make me postpone my meeting."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to fuck me."

He smiles.

---

Ring.

"H…hello?" My voice is raspy. I can't believe I fell asleep again.

"Kathryn."

"Conner." It's a relief hearing his voice. "Hey…"

"Isabel told me you sounded weird when you called her. Is there anything wrong?" He inquires.

"No, I just… I had this dream."

"Oh… what kind of dream?"

"You were dead."

"Kathryn, I love you but you worry too much. I'm fine. Just a little tired, but otherwise fine."

"Good. I don't know what I'd do if you were really gone."

"I'll try my best not to die on you then." He promises. My real brother-lover.

"Good." I repeat. "I'm glad you're okay. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

The simultaneous vibrating of our phones causes me to rub my eyes and squint at the clock. 8:30 in the morning. Fuck. We were late for work. Also judging from the numerous missed calls on my phone and his (mine was fifteen, his was eight), we had to leave immediately.

"Sebastian," I nudge him and he moans against his pillow. He better not drool on it.

"Mmph. Five more minutes and then we can fuck again."

"I don't want to fuck again, you stupid moron." I stand up and grab the nearest item of clothing—his button down long sleeved shirt. "We're late for work."

"Mkay."

"Sebastian, I'm not kidding." I throw a pillow at him and he groans again. "Get up."

"Baby, I'm tired okay? Fuck work."

"Okay, first of, what's with this 'baby' thing? Don't call me that, I feel gross. Secondly, I need to kick you out of my condo right now in case my fiancé decides to visit me later and spend the night. You know, my fiancé Derrick? Now get the fuck up already, geez!"

"I want to sleep." He whines.

"Quit being a child." I scold, rolling my eyes.

He finally rolls over and he rubs his eyes, adjusting to the light. He squints at me and a gorgeous (okay, yes, I admit it.) smile suddenly lights up his otherwise sleepy face.

"You're wearing my shirt." He says, sounding as though I had just told him I was going to be his willing sex slave.

"You ripped off my clothes when we were still in the kitchen. It was the only thing nearby."

"I like watching you move around when you're wearing my shirt."

"You said that already. Now's not the time to reminisce about the past, you sappy fuck." His phone vibrates again, indicating a call. I toss it to him, trying to ignore the blinking 'Selena Wade' on the small screen.

His smile falls. "Hello?"

I leave the room as he continues talking to her. When I pass by the guest bedroom, he's still there. Still talking to her. He looks at me and I motion for him to lock the door on his way out, because I had to go to work.

_ Let's go together._ He says.

I shake my head. I have a car, thanks. 

_I'll drive you._

I said I didn't need you, Sebastian. Just don't forget to lock the door. 

"Where are you?" He says to her, sounding worried. I see his wrinkles forming. "No… you know it's not like that. I do care about you, Selena. I love you. You know that."

He listens for a while and he holds up one finger, asking me to wait for him. I tap my watch and glare at him. He stands up (by now he thankfully has his boxers on) and he awkwardly uses one arm to pull me into a hug. It isn't like last night. This feels stiff and forced. It makes me ill to realize that this is like a one night stand, and that he is just some random guy I fucked.

I extricate myself from him and leave without saying another word. I catch him murmuring to her.

"I'll always be here, I promise. I'll take care of you. I'll never leave you."

The sight of the untouched food he had prepared for me makes me stop. I toss the contents into the trashcan before leaving.

---

"Kathryn?" He gently touches my arm, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Um. What? Excuse me?" I blink, startled at Derrick's voice. I immediately feel bad when his face falls. "I'm sorry, I just had a lot on my mind."

_Like how you fucked someone else behind his back?_

Shit. Bad Kathryn. Stupid, horny lonely Kathryn. I was at dinner with my fiancé and apparently I had been spacing out far too much. 

"What's wrong?" He asks me, caressing my hand. Why the hell Elle ever cheated on him with that moron Melanie's boyfriend was beyond me. He was wonderful. Elle was an idiot for letting him go.

Wait. It's not like I can think ill of Elle for doing that to him when just last night I had done the same thing. Just looking at Derrick makes me feel like shit. Just remembering Sebastian inside me makes me feel worse.

"I um…" I falter. _I slept with someone else._ "I feel sad because Conner's gone."

That's partly true. That was partly the reason why I did what I did anyway. 

"Oh, Kathryn. I'm sorry." He takes my hand. Kisses it. He's so patient with me that way, even when I'm blatantly lying to him. "Do you want to spend the night at my apartment?"

"No. Yes." Shit.

He laughs. "Which is it?"

"Yes." I nod. Then I nod harder, grateful for him being here. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Then it's settled." He briefly caresses my cheek with his fingers before resuming his meal. "But you know you can spend the night at my apartment, right? Anytime you want, you don't have to ask."

"Where were you when I was in high school?" I ask him seriously, liking how he chuckles at my question. "I wish I had dated you before."

"I was an asshole when I was in high school."

"I'm sure it would have been a step up from Adrian Vanderbilt III, Carmine Gianni, and of course, Court Reynolds."

He laughs again, before something catches his eye behind my shoulder. "Oh, look. It's Sebastian and his girlfriend."

Oh, look. Life's laughing at me right now.

Derrick raises his hand to greet them and I turn around obligingly. She looks bad. Bad beautiful. Skinnier than I'd remembered, the light seems to have diminished in her eyes. What had the Fox siblings done to her? Sebastian looks tense. His hand keeps moving as though to hold her up in case she falls.

"Let's invite them to sit with us."

"No!"

He looks at me quizzically.

"I mean," I hedge. "I think they want their privacy, just like I want to eat with my fiancé alone."

This appeases him and puts his mind at ease. He's like a child I want to protect. My male version of Sebastian's Selena. We both try to keep them in the dark of what we had done. They take a seat near the window. A bit far from us, but they're still in my line of vision. They're talking. Selena looks tired. It's such a waste as to how damaged she was. Sebastian looks angry, but he doesn't raise his voice. She replies, puts her hands on her forehead, elbows on the table. He deflates visibly. Like she's draining him, too. He leans and rubs her back. Soothing murmurs in her ear. Nuzzles her cheek. Maybe he tells her he loves her.

Derrick's talking about how his parents are coming to New York. They love me. I've met them plenty of times, I'm especially find of Marian, his mother. I'm only half listening. Their appetizers get served. She's trying to eat. He finally looks at me.

This is our life.

I don't hear from him until two days later.

---

I had been planning to get a few of my favorite paintings from my old bedroom at the townhouse when I hear the door open and close. The door to his old room.

Funny how life is.

"Hey," I call out, knocking on his door and knowing that it was him who was inside.

"Kathryn?" He opens it. He smiles at me. "Hey, sis. I didn't know you were going to be here; I was just getting out of a few of my old photos."

"Can I come in?"

He opens the door wider. "Sure, of course."

I step inside. He tries to kiss me but I turn my head. When I try to kiss him, he's out of range. We both chuckle weakly. Fumbling. Grasping. I know him but I don't know him. To what extent did our familiarity with each other end? Was it enough to bridge all those years apart? Was it enough that he knew when I was lying? That he knew the sounds I made when I sleep?

I sit on the bed and he rummages through his drawers, his back to me.

"This Ian bastard's dead. I want to kill him for what he did to her."

"What did he do?"

"The fucker seduced her." He says bitterly. "She's vulnerable and somehow he knew it. I should have gone back to her that night. She almost killed herself."

"What happened?"

"This guy." He closes the drawer with the loud slam, turning to me. "He's been trying to get her. Ian James, that's what he said his name was. I've been trying to get a hold of the bastard but he's disappeared."

"What did he do?" That handsome sexy charming incestuous man.

"He got her to trust him. They went out a couple of times, after her class. She wasn't cheating on me then, she wasn't like that. At least, not until that night." He swallows, glaring hatefully at his shoes. "After he fucked her, he started telling her all these things… about how he knew about the car accident when she was a kid and how it was her fault. I don't know how he knew it, but it was like he managed to articulate every fear she kept hidden. He laughed at her, called her damaged. Stupid, naïve bitch. That's what he told Selena."

"Fuck." I gasp. The cruelty was not lost on me. I was not surprised at all. Elle was, after all, his sister.

"She called me after he'd left… remember? I was… we were…" He doesn't finish his sentence. "I thought it was… goddamn it. When I was with you that night, everything else had been less important."

"You can't blame me for what—"

"I'm not blaming you." He says. "I just wanted to be honest."

"Yeah."

"I don't know what to do." He tells me, his voice subdued. "I'm scared that if I don't do anything about it, he's going to find her again. Maybe fuck her up. Make her snap. I can't let that happen to her."

"So what are you planning to do?"

"Do you think she's safe here?" He asks, looking at me earnestly. His trust in me was wonderful, his faith unshakable. "Or should I take her away again? Leave New York? Business is doing well, I don't really have to work here anymore."

He's going to leave. Sebastian. Leave. I'll be with Derrick. Conner's going to start a family. Almost like what I wanted.

"Kathryn?" He prods. "Tell me what you think. You know I value your opinion."

I know that if they stayed, it would only get worse. Knowing Elle, or not knowing Elle at all (it depends on how you see it), that much was true. Her words come back to me. How it would be convenient for her to get rid of Selena. Googoo eyes at Sebastian.

What was it I really wanted? The thrill of being part of another ruination? I feel no thrill in it at all, not after having seen Selena in her state. I had changed, after all. Shame was only for those who deserved it, and what had she done to deserve such a thing? No. Melanie Foster deserved it because she was a sycophantic two-faced bitch. Annette Hargrove deserved it because she was a hypocrite who stole my stepbrother. Cecile Caldwell deserved it because Court Reynolds was in love with her, and even her innocence was short lived when she became a slut who fucked Ronald and Sebastian. They were all flawed, but Selena's flaw was not something I could be angry at.

"I think you should stay here." I find myself saying. I can almost hear Elle laughing, see Ian Fox smiling malevolently as I served Selena to them like a sacrifice. Sin by omission.

He's silent as he considers my answer. "I can get her back into therapy again." He muses. "And she's been loving school here, too. Maybe I could get a bodyguard for her to keep the bastard away, and I'll find him and fuck him up. You're right… maybe… maybe we don't have to leave."

"Maybe." I reply.

"Thank you, Kathryn. I'm glad you're here." He finds my hand and squeezes it. His eyes penetrate mine. "About the other night… I'm sorry I haven't called you. That was rude."

"What's there to talk about?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Your crazy dream? You were really freaked out."

"Conner was dead."

"Why were you so freaked out about that?"

"Because I can't… because if he…"

"You love him?"

"Yes." I don't elaborate. Let him think what he wanted.

He nods. He lets go of my hand. "I guess I'd better go."

"Um… yes, so do I. I'm meeting Derrick for lunch."

We both stand up. He wipes his hands on his pants. He shuffles his feet. I take my purse.

"So I'll talk to you soon." He says.

"Uh huh."

"Thank you for the advice, it really helped."

"Don't mention it." Ever again.

He tries to kiss my cheek again. I allow him this time, only I stay still and he doesn't pull away. His kisses eventually lead to my mouth, his hands around my waist. Our eyes are closed. What was the point in fighting?

He fucks me on his bed and I hold on tightly as I come. My eyes shut. My grasp desperate.

---

I'm a whore.

That's pretty much established.

Yet Derrick hugs me as though I wasn't. He deserves more than me. Or Elle, for that matter. Maybe he was attracted to women like us. I'm staying with him tonight. This was becoming a regular occurrence. Not that he minds. I don't either. The domesticity makes me feel comfortable.

"Mmm I'm a lucky man for having you." He whispers tenderly. Making me feel like more of a whore than I had ever been, even when I was in high school.

The truth chokes me. It makes me feel dirty, even staying with him doesn't have the power to cleanse me anymore.

He's kissing my neck. His mouth wonderful, his hands gentle.

"Derrick…"

"What?" He slips a dress strap off my shoulder.

I bring his face near mine. He deserves more. This sentence repeats itself again and again. "I cheated on you."

* * *

A/N: Anybody still reading? Any thoughts? Sorry, I don't know what to say.  



	40. Stay

**Part Two, Chapter 13: Stay**

**  
stay 1 stā steɪ steɪ**

**verb**

**[ intrans. remain in the same place**

**[ trans. stop, delay, or prevent (something)**

-

_Sleeping beauty stirs,_

_The whole world could be hers._

_But after all these years,_

_After all these years_

_I'll say no more about it._

_  
Listen to me,_

_I can only say this once._

_Are you listening?_

_See these empty hands,_

_Know that it was all for you_

-"Lake" by Aqualung

I've done a lot of horrible things in my life. Actually, horrible wouldn't quite cut it. I've done worse than horrible things. Most of the time, I've enjoyed doing these things. For instance, I thoroughly enjoyed turning Cecile into a raging slut. Even though the outcome proved to be disastrous, I've even enjoyed making that bet with Sebastian. Sure, I regret it. It doesn't mean that it hadn't been fun until the moron actually fell for her. 

My point?

Watching Derrick's face somehow made me feel like I had topped my list of fucked up things. When the hell have I become this person? Now I know why I preferred not being attached to things when I was younger. Having a conscience sucks.

"Who?" His voice is strangely calm, yet he still appeared stunned. He had backed away from me.

"A client's son. It doesn't matter who."

His fist collides with a framed photograph of us. The frame gets pitted against the wall, its glass shattering under the force of his punch. I recoil. Derrick had by nature, never been a violent man.

"Why?" Still the same dull tone.

"I don't know." I answer honestly, looking at his bruised hand. "I'm sorry."

Derrick takes a seat. Runs his hand through his hair. Maybe he's getting blood on those soft strands. He looks pained now, like I'd just stabbed him. For those of you who are as of the moment lacking a conscience and you have my former ability to toy with people's lives and feelings without so much as a needle prick, then I advise you to do whatever you can to hold on to that amorality.

"Derrick,"

"No, please don't." He tells me, his voice soft.

I sit opposite him instead, fidgeting with my engagement ring. "I didn't want to lie to you."

"Thank you." He replies sarcastically.

"You know it's not the first time I've cheated on a boyfriend." I glance at him. "But it's the first time I wanted to tell my boyfriend the truth."

"I'm pleased to have been the first to receive this privilege." Derrick replies, bitterness in his every syllable.

"Look, I'm sor—"

"Kathryn, what do you want?" He raises his head to meet my eyes. They really are such a beautiful shade of blue.

"What do you mean?"

"You wouldn't have done that if I had been enough for you, so I'm asking you now. What do you want?"

"Derrick, it's not that simple." I place a hand on his arm, caressing his wrist. "Let me see your hand."

"It's nothing." He mutters. "So what is it? What do you want? You asked for a long engagement, I gave it to you. I'm not rushing you; I don't want you to do anything you don't want to, okay? So why are you doing this?"

"I don't know." I repeat, still fiddling with my ring. I watch him watch my hand. I slide the ring off my finger but he places his hand on top of mine.

"It's like I never knew you." He says.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"You know it's a rarity for me to actually repeat an apology."

"It's not helping matters, Kathryn. I still feel like shit. I still love you."

"What do you want me to say?"

"You know what Sebastian told me after you went all psycho and attacked me that day?"

I'm surprised that he mentions Sebastian all of a sudden, but I try not to react. "What?"

"He said that sometimes you run away from something if it gets too much for you, and that I should try and be patient because it's just how you are."

I stiffen, imagining Sebastian actually saying that. "What else did he say?"

"He said you were worth it." He sighs, returning the ring back on my left finger. "Crazy thing is, I still think you are."

"You still… you don't think I'm a horrible whore for doing this to you?"

"You're not a horrible whore." Derrick answers, thoughtfully. "You just don't know what you want."

"But where does this leave us?"

He looks at his hands, then he stares at the injured one as though only noticing it for the first time. "Keep the ring. Figure out what you want, but I'll be here."

---

I had been on my way to Blaine's room (he had given me free reign of his house years ago. My gender queer boyfriend) when I heard Sebastian's voice.

"…why Kathryn feels that way."

Hmm. Interesting.

"He was with her for six years, Valmont. She's become attached to him."

"But to the extent of an obsession?" Sebastian argues, sounding frustrated.

"Look," Blaine sighs. "I'm not even supposed to tell you this, but what you did to her really fucked her up."

"How convenient for Conner." Sebastian says bitterly. "So how long did it take for them to fuck after I left? Ten minutes?"

"You're kidding, right? Are you that stupid? It took her two years before she slept with him! Conner and I were the ones who took care of her while you were off diddling that rich bitch. Can you blame her for the separation anxiety?"

"Whatever, Tuttle. She can take care of herself."

"You stupid… moronic… ass." Blaine enunciates this slowly as though Sebastian's retarded. "That's all I'm gonna say."

"She had a dream that he was dead." He changes the topic. "I woke up and she was calling Isabel just to look for him. Kathryn was totally freaked out and it's like I couldn't do a fucking thing."

The room becomes silent. I want to hit Sebastian. I can almost hear the wheels turning in Blaine's head as he processed this information. So much for keeping this a secret.

"You…slept…" Blaine sounds shocked.

I decide to intervene and finally pushed the door open. "Boys, it's rude to talk about someone behind their back."

They look at me guiltily.

"Um… how much did you hear?" Sebastian's voice now sounds small.

I fix him a steady glare. "Does it matter?"

Blaine pecks my cheek. "Hello, bride to be. I must say you're looking beautiful today."

"Oh, stop sucking up, you traitor." I admonish before giving up my nonexistent anger. "And these days, I'm not a bride to be."

"What!" Sebastian.

"…are you talking about??" Blaine.

"I confessed my infidelity to Derrick."

"Infidelity… you… and… Valmont?" Blaine's eyes are about to pop out. "Kathryn, seriously? Are you high? You said you wanted to kill him."

"I resent that!" Sebastian frowns. "Kathryn, you told him? What the hell… you're being nice."

I smile wanly. "Don't call me nice. There are still despicable things you don't know about." Like me chopping off black haired Barbie's head for the Fox siblings to devour.

"Well then… why?"

"I didn't tell him I slept with you."

Blaine shrieks. It's the gayest he's ever sounded.

"But still," Sebastian says softly. "Why? He was good for you."

"I told you I've changed." I respond coolly. "Since you were away for most of my adult years, let me impart this knowledge: When you fully devote yourself to someone with nothing but the best of intentions, you deserve the truth. What was I supposed to do? Allow him to be blissfully ignorant even though I was fooling around with you? That would fucking hurt him, Sebastian."

He doesn't reply.

"He doesn't deserve any of that. Maybe if he were someone like you, sure. But he's different, Sebastian."

Sebastian's eyes speak multitudes. He knows. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Have the best intentions."

"Fuck you." Not exactly polite and in any way an answer to his question but it felt right to say.

"So the engagement's off?"

"Probably. I'm a cheating slut."

He gestures at my hand. "You're still wearing the ring."

"He said he'd wait for me."

"But you still want to marry him?"

"What's with the fucking questions, Sebastian?"

"Oh, sorry. Is this curiosity about your life only applicable to Conner?" He retorts bitingly.

"One more comment about him and I'm going to smack you, I swear to God, Sebastian!"

He stares at me, quiet.

"Thank you."

"I just don't understand why he's so—"

I slap him. Very, very hard. He yelps out in pain. His neck twists. His hand covers his mouth. Huh. Maybe that one time karate session with Elle had paid off and I made him bleed.

"Christ!" He yells angrily, advancing towards. His hand rises as though to strike me back.

"I warned you." I smirk, crossing my arms over my chest.

He grabs my shoulders, giving me one hard jerk. Hard is an understatement. My brain feels rattled. I shove him away and slap him again.

"No." I hold up a hand, immediately stopping Blaine since he was about to intervene.

"Conner. Conner. Conner." Sebastian jeers, his tongue in his cheek. It's really red now.

I grit my teeth and move to hit him again, only this time he grips my arm in a hold that makes me cry out in pain.

"Play nice." He instructs, his voice deathly calm.

"Fuck off." I intone, imitating him.

"Fuck you." His nails are digging into my skin.

"Valmont, let her go." Blaine tries to help again, but we both tell him to back off.

"You despicable, jealous idiot."

"You crazy, gorgeous whore." He slams me against the wall and began assaulting me with his mouth. It's hot and wet and his tongue coaxes mine into responding.

"Let. Me. Go." I gasp, trying to tear him off me but he presses his hard body—I mean hard everything—against mine.

"That's how much I want you." His throat rumbles hoarsely, nipping my neck. I tug his hair. He parts my legs.

"S-seb…" I mutter. No, wrong word. I babble. "Blaine!"

"Kathryn, you better think things through—" Blaine begins.

Sebastian's trying to rip my clothes off. "Fuck off, Tuttle. I'm fucking her."

"Not in my room!" He complains, backing away as Sebastian continues to fondle me.

"Not…n-not here…" I mumble between suffocating kisses. He's going to eat me alive. Eat. Oh, god. Eat. He's bending his knees, kneeling in front of me.

"Kathryn, this isn't a good idea!" Blaine begs. "Not in my room! Use the guest room, it's just next door!"

He pulls my dress up, exposing my stomach. He's licking my bellybutton. Tongue flickering in and out, sucking and leaving little marks. The fucker was making me wet and he knew it.

"I love—" He stops for a moment. "I love doing this to you."

"Guest room." I pant, pulling his hair to get him to look at me. Our eyes were both half lidded. We both looked like we were drunk. "Not here."

"Thank you!" Blaine cries out in relief, shoving a handful of condoms in Sebastian's pocket as he carries me. Well, I had wrapped my legs around his waist and he was holding me up.

"Don't hit the—"

"Fucking hell!" He hits a chair and we nearly fall on the floor. A smile begins to form on his face but I slap it right out.

"What the fuck was that for?"

"Because it's always better when we fuck angry." I nearly tear his mouth off when I kiss him again and we both manage to stumble into the next bedroom and lock the door. He's trying to undo the zipper and I'm tearing off the condom wrapper with my teeth. Teamwork. Divide and conquer. Kiss and penetrate.

"Let me." He breathes, groaning when I start to stroke him. "I'll put it on."

"I know I'm being extremely stupid but I like feeling you inside me without anything."

He stops trying to take off my dress.

"I don't want to get you pregnant." He says.

"We've done it before."

"We were kids before, Kathryn. The last time was… unexpected. We were stupid. I want to take care of you, and part of that is—"

"Quiet." I get down from his arms and push him to the bed. "I'll do it."

He says my name over and over and over again when I take him into my mouth.

Let's just say it turned out to be a very long day.

---

"You are both weird, perverted sex addicts." Blaine pops his head into the room just as Sebastian was nuzzling my neck.

"Hmm. Takes one to know one, you fruitcake." I scratch the back of Sebastian's neck lightly before smiling. "Tickles."

"You smell really good." Sebastian smiles at me, looking satisfied.

"Well you fuck really well." I kiss his bottom lip and pull away just in time before he starts to really get into it. He frowns and pouts.

"Tease."

"Asshole." I smirk. "I better go."

"Where to?"

"Damage control. I don't know. I feel bad for doing that to Derrick."

"How are you going to accomplish this exactly? Lie naked on his bed?"

I don't think he was really going to let it go if I appealed to his dick but I pretend to consider the thought. "Hmm… there's an idea. Thanks, Sebastian."

"Well, you don't have to do it." He looks grumpy. "I don't think you should."

"At least he's not going to screw her over like someone I know." Blaine interrupts pointedly.

"Stay out of this, Tuttle." Sebastian orders, looking annoyed.

"Don't talk to him like that." I argue, looking for my clothes.

"Kathryn, can I talk to you outside? Alone?" Blaine glares at him.

"What the fuck, Tuttle? Did I do something to you I don't know about?"

"No, but you did something to her." Blaine narrows his eyes. "Let me paint of picture of exactly what that is. Kathryn snorted so much coke up her nose that she almost—"

"Stop it!" I shove Blaine out the door and frown at him, fumbling as I continued to dress. "What's wrong with you?"

"Look, princess. I like Valmont as much as the next guy. You were a wreck before, okay? It's like I'm seeing it happen all over again. You guys are great together, but I'm not sure if this is the best idea…"

"What? We're just fucking."

"You and Valmont get off on this whole forbidden relationship thing, but that's just it. It can't always be like that."

"I'm a grown woman, Blaine. I think I'm capable of handling myself."

"Not when you're with him." He reminds me. "Think about it, Kathryn. He left you for that girl and now you're fucking him again??"

"He had his reasons for leaving." I justify, my voice rising.

He goggles at me. "You're defending him!"

"I'm just saying that there are things you don't know about!"

"When we were teenagers, sure, I wanted you guys to end up together but that was before. At this rate, I even think Conner—"

"Shut the fuck up about Conner. God! What is it with everybody? He's not here, okay? He's with his family. Move on."

He sighs. "Just be careful, all right? It was a bitch dealing with you when you were fucked up over him."

"Duly noted." I let him off easily, figuring that his concern for me was something I couldn't be angry about. "Why did he come here?"

"He wants me to look for this guy. Ian James, I think. I don't have much to go on, which sucks."

"Don't do it."

He looks confused. "What?"

"I mean, look for him, but don't tell Sebastian if you find him."

"You know this guy?"

I nod.

"And?" He presses.

"And I just know him, okay?"

"Well, is he on your list of guys you're fucking?" Blaine questions.

"No. Just don't, okay? Call me if you find out anything about him. Never tell Sebastian anything. I mean it, Blaine."

"Valmont's still hot as hell but I still dislike him from time to time for being such a dick." Blaine says, placing a hand on my wrist. "Kathryn, try not to let your horny mind get in the way of thinking clearly, okay?"

"I'll try my best." I promise, smiling ruefully. I return to the room and find Sebastian putting his pants back on.

"Is everything okay?" He looks at me cautiously.

"I have to go now." I reply instead. He stops me.

"Wait…"

"What is it?"

"I'm… I'm glad you're not marrying him."

"Good for you." I roll my eyes. "I'll see you later, brother."

---

Stepping inside the Fox mansion later on makes my otherwise foggy fucking-Sebastian induced mind return to its more rational state. The maid points me to a general direction of where I can hear muffled thumps, which I can only surmise to be Elle dealing with her aggression issues.

A loud crash makes me jump back and Elle's body lands on the floor of her living room, colliding with a chair leg.

"Jesus, Elle!" I gasp, taking out my cell phone to call the police but she takes one look at me before holding out a hand as if to stop me.

"Had enough yet, sis?" Comes a cocky voice and just like that, her attention's focused on him. She wipes the blood from her mouth and stands up. I move closer to get a better view. Most of the living room looks ransacked, and her brother stands with a rumpled, blood spattered suit.

"Not even close." Elle says, launching into a series of punches that soon drives him to the floor painfully. When she starts punching his chest, Ian seems to notice my presence. He smiles at me. Okay, he's still pretty hot despite being a twisted asshole.

"So you like to watch?" He asks amusedly, holding Elle's wrists as she growls and tries to struggle.

"Leave her alone, Ian." Elle mutters. "Kathryn, please wait in my office. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

"I'm sorry, I just had to ask. Why the hell are you fighting?"

"No reason. It's something we like to do."

"Oookay…" I reply slowly, weirded out. I head upstairs to her office, where there's a CD with a red bow taped on top of it. There was a post it on it, too. It simply said: Love, Ian.

Beside that was a framed photograph of them as children. A smiling, dark haired boy (Ian), beside him was a teenage girl I didn't know who has the same general features as they did, and beside that girl was Elle. Curious. That hadn't been there before.

I take the CD and pop it into her computer.

Holy shit.

Selena and Ian. Fucking. Call me crazy, but my fascination for Sebastian's girlfriend prevented me from stopping the video. I've watched my fair share of sex videos (mostly from when Sebastian would make them and brag about it) so this wasn't anything new, and yet watching her makes me feel like this was something different. Was this how she was when Sebastian was inside her?

It was the same position. Missionary. Over and over again. Naked, she's even more beautiful. When they're done, the charming smile leaves Ian's face. He seems to morph into someone else as he proceeds to scare the living shit out of her. Sebastian's tale was inaccurate. It was worse than he had told me. Ian called her a whore and said that she was a crazy bitch and that he knew about her past. Selena's eyes widened. She clutched the covers as though they would bring her to safety. It was like watching a horror movie or something. Or watching someone get tortured, and a part of me wanted him to stop while the other part urged him to go on.

"So, you really like to watch, huh?"

I try to close it but he stops me.

"Oh, no please." Ian waves his hand, encouraging me to continue. "I've never been one for modesty. Elle's told me about you, you know. It might be something you'll enjoy."

"How did you…?"

"Fuck her?" He takes a seat, cocking his head. "I can't give away my secrets, can I?"

"Why are you doing this to her?"

He stares at me for a while. Then he points at the photograph I had noticed earlier. "That's our sister Keiko." He says instead, directing those breathtaking blue eyes at me. "Elle loved her, and I love Elle."

"Where is she?"

"She put a gun in her mouth and blew her own head off." He replies bluntly. "Elle was in the same room with her. She's still wary of guns."

"Fascinating, but what about Selena? Why is Elle angry at her?"

He dodges the question again, picking up a paperweight and fiddling with it. "You're friends with Elle, yes?"

"I guess."

"Well, then. Something you should know about my sister is that she's a sociopath. I don't mean that as a term. It's an actuality. She's highly intelligent, but sometimes her justifications are extremely skewed."

"So what? She's not the only one." I smile dryly. My justifications are also skewed these days.

"Yes, but for her, there are no lines to cross. She can kill someone and still go to work the next day."

I remember Melanie Foster and the unnerving stare Elle had given her. The way she spoke had made me shudder and realize that perhaps I didn't know her as well as I thought. "Why? Has she already killed someone?"

He hesitates. He has nice, long fingers. Trimmed fingernails. Still playing with the photo. "When our sister died, we had to live with our uncle. Anyway, our uncle tried to molest her. He went to her room one time and I heard her cry out. Just once. She told me he hadn't succeeded but I think he did. The day after she turned eighteen, our uncle was found dead in his room. Apparent overdose."

"So what? The bastard killed himself."

"Our uncle never took any form of medication, not even when he needed it." Ian answers seriously. "I asked her about this and she just shrugged. No expression whatsoever, even when we both saw his corpse being brought out of his room. Elle and I used our inheritance from him— we weren't as wealthy as we are now—and we went to college. Here we are now. She never spoke of him again."

"Brother, done with my life story yet?" Elle purrs from behind, having entered the room soundlessly. "Or are you also going to tell her all about my first boyfriend?"

"Did you kill your uncle?"

She flashes me a smile, all pearly whites and brilliance. Then she shrugs. "I'm going to Spain for a few days, I've already cleared it with your father."

Suspicion overcomes me. "Why?"

"Business." She responds in the same velvety, breathy voice. "Don't miss me too much. Ian's staying here, he can keep you company."

"What are you going to do, Elle?" I demand, my voice hard.

"Something you could never do, even with your penchant for cruelty." She nods at the computer screen, where the image of her brother and Selena during him talking shit to her remains frozen. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

"You're taking it too far."

She seems to find this amusing. "Far? Kathryn, you have no idea how far I'm planning to go."

---

I was with Sebastian when I realized what she'd done. We were in my apartment, limbs twisted around each other in post-coital relaxation state. The television had been turned on and he had been flipping through the channels restlessly with one hand, the other around my waist.

Senator Vaughn's daughter was killed in a car crash. She had been pregnant with her first child. The screen showed the Valmont and the Vaughn families.

Elle sits beside Isabel, watching impassively as the now widowed Conner bends his head to avoid the press.

"Jesus." Sebastian says. His fingers flex against my hip like I was going to run out naked, hop on a plane, and go to Spain.

"I don't think he's at work here, Sebastian."

"What do you mean?" His forehead scrunches.

"Nothing."

"So…" He says after a while, placing small kisses on my cheek while I continue to flip through the channels. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

He sighs. "You know, Kathryn."

"No, I don't know. I'm not a mind reader."

"You're not." He agrees. "But you know what I'm talking about."

"It's not easy to explain, okay? Can we just drop it for now?"

"I'm not asking you to explain. I'm just asking you if—"

"Sebastian, do you really want to do this right now? Seriously?" I lean away, looking at him squarely. "I really don't want to fight."

"We're not going to fight." He insists softly, brushing his thumb against my lower lip. "I just want to know so I won't try to visit you at work or here."

"Oh, you mean so you'll save yourself a trip because I won't be around for you to fuck?" I snipe, hurt.

He stares at me, infuriating me with a calm, blue-eyed gaze. "That's not what I meant."

"Then tell me what you want, Sebastian." I heave a sigh, leaving the bed.

"What do I want? Well, what do you want?" He can be annoying sometimes.

"What I want?"

"Yes, Kathryn. What do you want?"

"I want you…"

His mouth starts to open slowly. Hah. Like I'll really give him something like that.

"…to get the fuck out of my room." I finish, smirking.

"You…" He narrows his eyes.

"Fill in the numerous profanities and terms of endearment you refer to me when you're angry." I add, laughing at his reaction.

"You're never going to admit it, are you?"

"There's nothing to admit."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

"So what time's your flight?" He asks after a long pause.

"My flight? Where?"

"To Spain. I'm assuming you'll want to go there."

"Hmm…" I glance at him. He's watching me expectantly. "I do, but maybe not right now."

"Why not?"

"Because I like where I am at the moment."

"Really?" He stands up, putting his arms around me. He smells like pillows and blankets. "I'm that great of a company?"

"Don't be an egotistic asshole. I meant I'm tired of traveling every which way and besides, with Elle gone from the agency I can't afford to leave." I cock my head, glancing at the mirror as he starts to kiss my neck. "I have things I need to attend to here."

"Like me?" He's doing that thing again. You know, that deep whispery voice that drives me nuts in a very good way.

Ian's face comes to mind. I wanted answers.

"No, Seb. Not you."

His forehead scrunches again. "Saxton?"

"Let's not ruin things right now, okay?" I say instead, trying to smile.

"You and your secrets." He sighs. "If you must know, I feel anxious when you're obviously keeping things from me."

"Take that feeling and multiply it by a hundred times. That's how I felt six years ago."

His eyes grow dim. He hugs me tighter. "I'm sorry." He kisses my cheek penitently. "I'm really, really sorry, Kathryn."

"Yeah, whatever. I got over it."

"Blaine said—"

"Screw what Blaine said. He makes it sound worse than it really was."

"Because you know that it was real for me." Sebastian holds on tighter and tighter but it doesn't become painful. "Maybe it wasn't for you, and I know you don't want to hear this from me right now. I just wanted you to know."

Something foreign inside me has been stationed on two opposite sides of my body and now they're clashing against each other. I need to talk to Ian soon.

* * *

Dear reader, 

Thanks for putting up with this for so long. I'm increasingly finding it difficult to write this, but I'll do what I can. Till the next one, I guess.


	41. Wait

**Part Two, Chapter 14: Wait**

**wait wāt verb [ intrans. **

** stay where one is or delay action until a particular time or until something else happens**

**- **

_This is a story 'bout the three of us_

_Down by the water and the tide is rising_

_This world is burning and I'm terrified_

_I need a little more time with you, oh_

_I just need a little more time with you_

-"Broken Bones" by Aqualung

Ian Fox opens the door as though he's been expecting me. He really does look like Derrick, especially under this light. Was this why Elle had gone out with Derrick in the first place? The thought bothered me.

"Elle's coming back soon." He says, stepping aside to let me pass. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Let's stop with the pleasantries, Ian. Did she do it?"

"Did Elle do what?" He scratches his head, yet his eyes tell me otherwise. They're shrewd, glinting blue brilliance.

"Did she kill them?"

"Elle is…" Ian pauses, searching for the right thing to say. "She knows what she wants and she goes after it."

"And she wants Conner? Is that it?" I almost yell at him. "She'll never get him. I mean, I've never liked Alana but that's too much! She was pregnant!"

"She'll get Conner." He replies, heading to the kitchen. He rolls up his sleeves and starts getting things out of the fridge. The way he handles that knife (with such ease and expertise) is both attention grabbing, impressive, and alarming. "Anyway, I was just going to cook lunch. Would you care to join me?"

"No."

"Oh, come now Kathryn. Elle and I are very much alike, and since you seem to enjoy her company, by association you'll probably enjoy mine. How about it? I promise to give you a treat afterwards, I'm sure you'll like it."

"What am I? A fucking dog?" I snap bitingly. He only grins.

"Just have lunch with me. It's a nice day." Ian gives me another charming smile. It's the kind of smile men have that usually renders a woman powerless. Both Valmonts have that. Derrick has that. Ian's was different in a way that it seemed darker, as though his smile held the promise of many (bad) things to come.

"Fine."

Lunch turned out to be mind blowing. Each dish was exquisite, his manners were that of a well-bred man raised with immense wealth even though he and Elle had a modest upbringing.

"You know who you remind me of?"

"Who?" He smiles.

"Hannibal Lecter. The next thing you're going to be telling me is that we're actually eating Alana's remains."

"Actually…" Ian leans forward.

I start coughing. He starts chuckling.

"You're very interesting." He tells me. "I can see why she likes you. You should take it as a compliment. Elle speaks very highly of you, and she's not the type of person who does that."

"I need answers, Ian."

"About her?"

"Not just about Elle."

"But she's mostly the reason why you're here, right? I'm the only one who knows her well enough."

"Do you know that you bear an uncanny resemblance to my fian… I mean, my boyfr, I mean her ex Derrick?" "I take a sip, placing my utensils down. "Does it bother you, her dating someone who looks so much like you?"

"I've met him." Ian shrugs. "I love Elle. I can't be with her like that, and maybe she loves me. If she takes joy out of that, then why would it bother me?"

"Watching you together… it's like I should be repulsed, but I'm not."

Ian's a better version of Derrick. There's something incredibly sexy about a man whom you know is capable of breaking your neck at any given second. "It's because you were involved with your brother, yes?"

"He was my step--" I correct him automatically before stopping. "Wait. How did you— I mean, what are you talking about?"

He's definitely got that whole mysterious thing going for him. He only grins again, tapping his head with a long finger. "Elle and I know a lot of things, that's all."

"You see all and know all?" I mock him.

He finds this funny. "Yes. You could say that."

"What do you mean?"

"Some other time, perhaps." He scratches his jaw, looking amused. "I'm sorry for seeming rude but I have something I need to do so would you mind…?"

I dab the corners of my mouth with the napkin and stand up. "Not at all. I need to be with someone anyway."

"Yes." Ian pours himself a glass of wine. "I think Sebastian would need that."

"Who said I was going to be with Sebastian?" I respond, glaring at him.

Ian's stare is unnerving, and despite the fact that it is as inquisitive and searching as Sebastian's and Conner's were, this kind made me feel as though he was tearing the many layers apart instead of gently unpeeling them the way my Valmont men would do.

"Well," Ian tells me with a voice that was a deeper version of Elle's melodious tone. "Aren't you?"

Fucking know it all.

---

I almost didn't want to meet Sebastian because I couldn't get Ian's voice out of my head. When I do see him, that deep throaty and very Hannibal Lecter-like voice immediately gets silenced.

"Hey." He presses a few buttons on his cell phone before putting it back in his pocket. He gives me another one of those frustratingly gorgeous smiles of his. Argh. He kisses my cheek but his mouth seems to linger an extra second for me to get the impression that he wanted to kiss me somewhere else but couldn't because we were meeting in public (outside my office). He smells really, really nice. All musky and masculine.

"Sorry it took so long. With Elle gone the workload was heavier than usual, but she's already called. She's coming back in a week." _After the funeral._ But I didn't say that. I think he heard it in my head anyway.

His smile falters. "By herself?"

I immediately know what he's getting at. He's been like this for the past few days, and even my threats of slapping him senseless if he even mentions or hints around his cousin didn't work because it just got too much that if I were to actually follow up on my threat, he wouldn't have a face left to show people.

I choose not to reply, instead opting to get into his car without waiting for him to open the door for me. He enters the driver's side and starts the car.  
"Kathryn?"

"Daddy called an hour ago. Can you believe that he actually wants me to—"

"Will Elle be coming back alone?"

"I don't know, Sebastian. She never said anything."

"But are you…" He sounds doubtful. His voice gets drowned out by car horns.

"Listen," I try to get him to talk about something else. "your birthday's coming up. I was thinking we could—"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

The car slows down as he turns right. "Selena and I always do something on my birthday."

"Always?" I mock him, annoyed. "Even when she was away?"

"I'd call her." He answers, his voice clipped. "You just never knew about it."

"Yeah, well." I muster as much coldness as I can possibly have. "I never knew a lot of things, remember?"

His body stiffens. His eyes turn into cold blue stones. He drives in silence for a while. I stare out the window.

"Kathryn," He finally says, only this time he sighs.

"What? I got it. You have plans. I'm not mad. It's not like I have a right anyway."

"Don't be like that."

"Be like that? I'm being realistic. We're having an affair. We just like the sex. That's it."

He doesn't reply again.

"I already had something in mind for you, but whatever."

Sebastian briefly glances at me. "Really?"

"Duh."

"Well… can I be with you the night before my birthday?"

"I bet this polyamorous shit is just making your dick and ego swell up, huh?"

"You should know that this hasn't been easy for me." He mutters, sounding wounded.

"Sure. Fucking two beautiful women must be so _hard_ for you."

"Kate, if we're just going to bicker like this then I'd rather not go out with you at all."

"Fine. Drop me off at the next corner and I'll have my driver pick me up then!"

Silence again.

I glare out the window. I always wonder if things should be this hard with him sometimes. He turns on the radio. He continues driving and soon I realize that he was just near that place I had been thinking of taking him to.

Something's touching my wrist. His finger I bet. I don't acknowledge him. Soon, his fingers. Plural. Caressing my skin as though coaxing me. I move my arm away. Asshole.

"I'm not dropping you off at the next corner, just so you know."

"Screw you."

"I hate it when you're mad at me."

"I don't give a damn."

"You look really beautiful today." He tries a different tact.

"Well you look like such an asshole today." And shot down.

"Being inside you is still the best feeling in the world?" Attempt number four.

"That worked when I was seventeen, stupid. Do you honestly think that after what you've done to me, that would still work now?" Crash and burn, jackass.

"Okay…" He withdraws his hand, deep in thought. Red light. He stops the car. Looks at me. "I had spoken to Isabel, who of course speaks to Conner on a regular basis. She told me about you, about how you've turned out to be this amazing, intelligent and successful woman. It wasn't just about the business. I wanted to see you. That's why I came back."

I glance at him. I look closer.

"It's the truth." He tells me solemnly.

"Oh… fine." I sigh. "Turn back and go right."

"Where are we going?"

"It's your goddamn birthday present that you won't let me give me you on your fucking birthday."

We enter an old fashioned theater that had very sparse viewers. I check my watch. Right on time. He still looks puzzled when we take our seats. The screen is still black. Sebastian squints at me.

"Kathryn, what's this?"

Then the lights go off. He turns his attention to the screen. He sees his mother. It's one of her movies, the one Blaine or anybody could never get a copy of. Then his body seems relaxed. He leans back, taking in the sight of the breathtaking blonde onscreen. The years seem to leave him, and there's suddenly something so innocent about him.

He barely blinks. Barely notices I'm here. Doesn't even touch me. It's like I'm gone.

When the movie nears the end, however, he finally looks at me.

"Kathryn," He talks like he doesn't want anyone else to hear it even though we were out of hearing range. "this is the best gift anyone's ever gotten me. Thank you."

Then he smiles. Grateful. Fucking _handsome_. He takes my face in his hands. Thumbs caress my cheeks. He leans closer.

"Just when I thought I knew you." He says. Then he kisses me.

---  
"When's he coming back?"

Sebastian's voice rouses me from my reverie. He rubs his sleepy eyes to watch me drink wine from across the room, my robe loose and the sash untied.

"Who?" I play dumb. I rest my elbow on the table and place my chin on my hand.

"You know."

"Why do you always ask?"

He sits up. "What do you want, Kathryn?"

"I want to sleep." I drain the contents of my glass and stand up, padding towards my side of the bed. "What do you want, Sebastian?"

"I want you and Selena to be happy." He settles back on the bed, his eyes on the ceiling.

"Good night." I turn away from him, clutching the covers against my chest the way I'd seen Selena do in the video.

He mutters something. I may have heard that name I warned him not to mention unless he wanted a severe bitchslapping.

"What, Sebastian?" I look at him. "I told you, I don't know when. Why do you persist on asking me every goddamn day?"

He looks at me squarely. "Because I just need more time."

"Time for what?"

He rubs his eye. Licks his mouth. The pink lips shine from his saliva_. You're such a boy._

"I need more time." He just repeats it.

"You had two years."

He remains quiet. Eventually I give up waiting for him to talk. We both go to sleep in the tense stillness of the room. I had a very odd dream that I can't fully remember. His voice was the only sound in it.

_ I just need more time. _

More time.

Time.

* * *

Anybody still here? 

A/N: Okay. Sorry for what seemed to be a lack of enthusiasm on my part for the previous chapters. Though I get tired of this sometimes, I do enjoy writing it. Really. I mean, my editor's going to have a heart attack if she finds out I've been writing this. Not the 'Wow this is amazing!' heart attack. More of the 'What the hell are you writing??' heart attack. But I've been told that I was improving! Yey. But yeah, I do like this story. As usual— Any questions? Comments? Sneaking suspicions? Has anybody fallen asleep due to the annoying and frustrating length of this monstrosity? I know I will. In fact, I'll sleep in a few minutes.

The ending to this story came to me last night. Fucking perfect. Now if only the story would go there.


	42. Control

**Part Two, Chapter 15: Control**

**  
control kənˈtrōl kənˌtroʊl kənˌtrəʊl**

**noun**

**• the restriction of an activity, tendency, or phenomenon**

**• the power to restrain something, esp. one's own emotions or actions**

_-  
Wait, don't go away_

_Just not yet_

_Cause I thought_

_I had it_

_But I forget_

_  
And I won't let you fall away_

_From me_

_You will never fade_

_And I won't let you fall away_

_From me_

-"Oh Star" by Paramore

Spain becomes Elle. Or murder becomes her. It's hard to say which. But then again, it's probably both. Despite the circumstances, watching her saunter into the office makes me remember all the other times she had proven to be a good friend and companion. Why is it that we can never really know people? I lean over the railing, resting my arms on the cold metal. Her eyes look up and they meet mine. Then she smiles. Not the cold, calculating smile she wore when we fired poor, pathetic Melanie Foster, but a genuinely warm one.

Her silence reminds me of Conner's silence. He hadn't spoken to me since his wife and kid died, even when I tried calling him numerous times. Yes, I did so behind Sebastian's back. It was hard enough trying to get him to stop asking me when he was returning.

Her heels make a clacking sound as she climbs the stairs. I turn to face her. She looks me over. Today her eyes are both gray and blue.

"What did you do?" I ask her quietly.

"Kathryn," Elle replies. "We're friends, aren't we? I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Did you kill them?"

She comes closer. She could push me over the railing and I could die at any given second, but somehow I know that she won't. When she reaches out to touch me, I know she wouldn't push. Her small hand feels cold. "You know how sometimes you know something and after that, things are never the same again?"

"Elle…"

"This is what that is. Please don't ask me that." Her voice every poet's lullaby. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a cream colored envelope. "Conner told me to give you this."

His name comes off as a line from a song. I imagined them in bed. I wanted to kill her.

"Conner."

Elle nods. Then her eyes beseech mine. "I don't want him the way I wanted the men who have ended up on my bed, Kathryn. I want him the way I want Ian. Do you have any idea how rare that is for me?"

"You could have found a way to get her out of the picture." The envelope seemed to possess a life of its own. Pulsating at my fingertips. Conner's heart. "You went too far."

"He would have never left her. Don't you understand the kind of man he is? The kind of man Sebastian is? They're the same. It's not enough to get her into a scandal, or to make her cheat on him. They can leave their wives or the girlfriends, but after that it's like a part of them's going to be ripped out. They don't love them. They're bound to them. Sometimes that's stronger. I don't care what Hallmark fucking says."

"Why isn't he talking to me?" I feel sick.

She shrugs. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Did you…?" My voice suddenly seems cold enough to freeze the entire room.

"No." She answers. "I didn't tell him not to talk to you. He did it on his own. Listen, are we done here? I have work to do."

I nod mutely. The paper goes thumpthumpthump in my hand.

---

Dearest Kathryn,

Starting this letter with an apology seems to be the best thing to do, so here it is. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ignoring you. Please don't think that it's not because I don't want to talk to you, because you know that's not true. There's nobody else I would like to talk to than you. I need more time. Things were never supposed to turn out this way. I was never supposed to be part of all this, vying for your attention. Please understand.

Conner

---

Sebastian's surprised to see me.

He stands up, arms outstretched. "Hey, this is a nice surpri—"

I slap him. _Whap_. I wish you could hear it. "He won't come back because he thinks I'll choose you!"

"What the fuck are you talking about??"

"Conner! Are you happy, you asshole??"

He frowns, rubbing his cheek. "You're acting like this is my fucking fault? He's a coward if he doesn't want to come back."

"Yeah, well, I WOULD RATHER HAVE HIM THAN YOU!"

The moment I say these words, I immediately regret it. His face falls. Something crumbles. In the far off distance a building explodes, but it doesn't really. I can only hear the explosion in my head.

"Sebastian, I…"

"So that's it, then." His voice is surprisingly businesslike. "That's that. Game over. Thank you, Kathryn."

"Wait, I didn't mean—"

"What did you mean, then?" He asks. "Do you think you're the only one who's tired of this?"

"I just want him back. Think what you will about it. He's my best friend."

"Okay then. Call him. Tell him what you want. It's that simple." He replies. His eyes are vacant. It's like I'm talking to a zombie.

"Where is this going, Sebastian?" I insist. "God, it's been years and I still have no idea. What are we really?"

"Does it even matter? You've made your preference clear. Ever since he left, it was like I was talking to another person. Like you're pretending to be someone you're not. You're pretending to be happy."

"He's my friend." I reply stonily.

"Goddamn it Kathryn! Stop saying that! Admit it already!" He yells. "I saw how you were when he was gone!"

"YOU NEVER SAW HOW I WAS WHEN YOU WERE GONE!"

We both stop moving.

His phone rings. A distinct ringing tone that makes him jump and snatch the phone with fast reflexes.

"Hello?" He says, his eyes on me. "Yes, this is Sebastian Valmont. I'm sorry, what are you doing with my girlfriend's phone?"

Girlfriend. The word strikes me like a blow.

"She's what? Fuck." He curses. He breathes quickly. Rapid shallow breaths. "Yes, I'm on my way. Please don't leave her alone."

He hangs up. "I have to—"

"So that's it then." I answer, imitating his tone earlier. "that's that. Game over. Thank you, Sebastian."

"You don't understand—" He pauses. "Fuck! My car's in the fucking shop! I can't take a cab from here, goddamn it!"

"I'll give you a ride."

"What?"

"I'll give you a goddamn ride to save your goddamn girlfriend's life."

"But…"

"Shut up."

We don't talk for the rest of the ride. The moment the car pulls up at Selena's school, he jumps out and runs into the building. I check my nails. I check my phone for messages. One from Elle and Ian. Three from clients. None from Conner. Ten minutes later, he comes out. He's carrying her. People glance at them. She has her face buried against his chest. Little beautiful breathtaking child-woman.

The driver opens the door for them. With difficulty, he manages to get in while carrying her. She seems to be sleeping now.

"She's back on anti-depressants." He explains.

"Did I ask?" _I'm such a bitch._

He keeps quiet. Strokes her hair from her face. Stares into her face like she's the most precious thing alive.

"We're not going to end well, Sebastian." The realization hit me like a thunder strike. I say this out loud. Murmured it like I was talking to myself. "We're not."

I don't know how this ever crossed my mind, but as I watched him, I can tell that he feels the same way. He carefully adjusts Selena's limp body, gathering her in his arms. Dazzled by her beauty. She's more attractive than I am. It's just that she's more damaged than I am. A broken vase.

"I want you so much." He whispers this like he was afraid she would hear him. "But you're right, Kathryn. We're not going to end well."

If only you could see us. Selena was figuratively and literally blocking the way. I drop them off at their place and spend the rest of the day alone. I had lunch with Blaine.

Oh, yes. I had lunch with Blaine. While he was trying to get my mind out of this particular predicament, I happen to see Ian pass by, on his way back to hell. He's a blur. He's like a ghost. A shadow. A thrill courses through me. I'm attracted to him in a way I can't explain. I'm attracted to him and Elle because I see myself with Sebastian. How we were. How we're supposed to be. Then I see Elle seated a few feet away from us. How could I have not noticed her? She seems to be finishing her meal. As she and her companion leave, my heart gets caught in my throat. How could they have hidden this from me? It was unmistakable. The marble skin. The broad back. The large curls, expressive eyes, and that ever present full mouth.

It was Conner.

I gasp. Blaine looks up, surprised. I'm standing up. Blindly walking. Looking at his broad back like it was a lighthouse I needed to find my way around. Elle's car slows down, driven by the valet attendant. I'm almost out of the door, but I see her tell him goodbye. She touches his cheek—the fucking bitch!— and smiles a whisper of a smile. He nods. Smiles back. Jesus, he's handsome. Then she's in her car. Drives away. He's all alone.

I'm out the door just as a second car pulls up. His car. A black Alfa Romeo. I had helped him pick it out for his birthday. We had driven around for hours, talking about everything. Even Sebastian. And it was okay, even though talking about him was like picking at a scab. Making myself bleed a little.

"Conner." I manage to get his name out before my heart got stuck in my throat. Because he's my friend and he's my almost-brother and I've wanted to talk to him for so long. Blaine doesn't do it for me.

He turns at the sound of his name being called. For a moment his face is blank. "Kathryn."

"Why are you—"

"I have to go." He interrupts. Hacking a knife into the already unraveling rope of my sanity.

"You can't."

He licks his lips. "I'm meeting Senator Vaughn. I need to. For my wife."

"You were never going to let me know you were here, were you?"

Still the same placid expression. Goddamn it! He pulls out the keys from his pocket. Checks his watch. "I couldn't stay long. I just had to talk to Elle."

"Oh, but her you can spend time with." I reply bitterly. "Since when the hell have you been close with her? You shouldn't. You have no idea how fucked up she is."

"I'm sorry, Kathryn. I have to go."

"You're just like him." I say. Still blank. Still fucking marble perfection.

Somewhere in his obsidian eyes a light returns. I was getting through.

"You don't know what I'm going through right now."

"Because you won't talk to me!"

"Why?" Conner asks, a wry smile on his face. "What would that do? You wouldn't be able to help me."

"And you think Elle would??" I had to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from screaming how she probably killed his wife and child.

"She's been there." He says simply.

"God, are you even listening to yourself?" I gesticulate angrily. "We've been together for years, and now all of a sudden you just decide to fucking shut me out? Now you're replacing me with that sociopath?"

"You don't understand, Kathryn." He says softly, looking into my eyes as though trying to convey something. "I have to go."

"If you leave, I'm done with you. I mean it. I deserve a fucking explanation. At least Sebastian left me something six years ago!"

He turns his back on me. Instinctively, I grasp his back. Trying to keep him with me. A low grunt escapes his throat. His body stiffens. I touch his back again. He winces.

"You're doing it again." I heave a huge breath. "You're hurting yourself… your back…"

"I have to go." He says again. Robotically. Then he takes a look at me. The expression my face must have had at that point! Because then he looks like the same old friend I've had with me over the years.

"It's not your fault."

"You don't understand." He says through gritted teeth.

"Make me understand then!"

His hands are like lightning. Suddenly, they're grasping my shoulders. Pressing against me so roughly it hurt. He backs me against the wall.

"I wanted them dead." He whispers, burying his head in my neck. "I asked for it, I know I did."

Passersby were already starting to look at us, but I didn't care. As I moved to touch him back, he hisses a warning for me not to. Hisses it like he hates me. Like he thinks I'm dirty.

"Please." I close my eyes. Inhaling his scent. Feeling his soft hair against my cheek.

He pulls away, looking at me. "I can't."

"Why?"

Without warning, his lips crush mine. It's a kiss that resembles a tidal wave, overpowering me and sucking me into a vacuum of darkness. He may have kissed me for a few seconds, or even a few minutes, but time was immaterial. I had only begun to grip his hair, to respond, to tell him that he could kiss me for hours, when he stops. I feel like I'm stuck in a movie and someone's pressed the Pause button. And he's the only one that's moving. I can't say anything. Conner touches his mouth, now red. Bruised.

"I have to go." He says for the fifth time. So persistently trying to leave me. His eyes are no longer blank. They're molten, burning with unspoken words. "See you around, Kathryn."

He gets into the Alfa Romeo. I can almost see myself in the passenger's seat. I was twenty-three. He was twenty-nine. Sebastian was gone, and yet he wasn't really. He was in the backseat. In my head. Inside me. Like a disease, like I'd once commented. He'd been pleased at that analogy. _So he was still inside me._

My throat's dry. Like Conner had literally kissed the life out of me.

_Come back. Where are you going? Where are you going again?_

---

My day gets better.

Or not.

It depends on how you see it. Haven't I told you that before? Let's see…

_In all likelihood, there's going to be angst. That frustration with something that should happen but wouldn't, or something that could happen but shouldn't. I don't know. Pick one. Pick all of them. They're all going to happen. In fact, they're all happening right now, it just depends on how you see it._

Right? Remember?

I want to bury myself in work. In cross checking every small detail even though it didn't demand that much attention. I wanted to read books I've bought but never got around to reading. But these books were mostly ones that Sebastian wanted me to read. Said it'd change my life. So the pages began to smell like his skin. And I stopped. I watch my laptop screen eventually go black. Black, and I can see my reflection. Black, like Conner's eyes. I can't believe I'm still wearing Derrick's ring. What the hell is wrong with me?

There's a knock on the door. I was almost scared to open it, knowing it'd be one of them.

I open the door. It's one of them, all right.

It was Sebastian this time. It was as if he somehow knew about Conner (Blaine would never have told him) and had now come to plead his case. Oh, how nice. I wonder what time Derrick's going to make an appearance.

"You can ask me to leave if you want to." He says immediately. Like he'd been nervous. His voice shakes a little. "I just wanted to say something."

I remain quiet.

He takes a deep breath before beginning. He rubs his hands together. Closes his eyes. Opens them. His blue eyes always manage to grab me despite my protests.

"You asked me what we were. I've been thinking about that a lot… and the answer is, I don't know. All I know is that we're more than what we admit. We're not teenagers anymore. This is beyond that. I want to give this a try, but there are things about me you have to accept, at least for now. Selena is my responsibility. It's unfair for me to ask you to do this, and like I said, you can ask me to leave after I've spoken to you. But I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop thinking about what's going to happen if you see Conner again."

"Sebastian, I—"

"Please." He implores with the gentleness of a saint. "Please let me finish. I might not be able to get it all out if you interrupt."

"Fine."

"I'm sure you've figured out by now why I keep asking you when he's coming back. Years ago, when we were sixteen, it would've never bothered me. You could've had a fling with him and I wouldn't have given a damn if I knew he was coming back a month later. Because I had you. Because you said you preferred me, remember?"

"You did not—"

"Kathryn, please."

I shut up.

"But now I'm not so sure. That's why. I get scared, because I know that he's not like Saxton. That he's someone you'll really, really be with."

"Conner was—" with me earlier.

'I just want more time with you. I just need more time with you before you see him again." He holds out his arms, as though showing me 'Here I am!'. Like a little kid playing hide and seek and chooses that moment to reveal himself. "I'm here, Kathryn. Not just for an affair."

You'd probably want to take a look into my thoughts right now. Ask me what I'm thinking. Give you a clue as to what I'd do. Who I'd choose. Who I wanted.

I'd disappoint you. There's no clear image in my mind. Right now it's just a mass of thoughts and memories and sensations. Even as he stands there expectantly, I become barraged by so much that it takes a while for this scene to load.

"I'm here." He says again. "I'm really here now."

I don't know why I let him in.

I don't know if this is something concrete. Or if it's just for the night. For a week. A month. A year.

It's like a nursery rhyme in my head as Sebastian starts undressing me. Some demented song. _We're not going to end well. We're not going to end well. We're not._ Then more words are added. _I can't. I can't, Kathryn. You don't understand. I wanted them dead. _Then, more words. The song goes faster and faster._ I'll wait. I'll wait. I'll be here._

I'm in a merry go round, spinning faster and faster and at first it's fun but then it won't stop. It just kept turning and turning, trapping me in a circular motion. I never really get to go anywhere. Everything's beyond my control. I'm just stuck. Spinning until my insides rebelled and I wanted to scream and throw up.

Say what you will about what you want. In the end, you never really know what it is. There's always going to be something else at the back of your mind, even the smallest part of doubt. Of wondering what it could be like if you chose this option, or that option. And soon you're left with an endless array of what ifs and maybes. Think about it. Tell me that's not true. If you say it isn't, you're lying.

* * *

A/N: Here's the reaction I'd like from you guys: "HOLY SHIT! WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NOW??" or: 'ANOTHER CHAPTER!!!???' But then other comments are also appreciated. So go on. If I have a bazillion reviews, I'll update tomorrow. Okay. I might not. I'm not that good. But still, review. 

Anyway—

For celeste and Lynn:

Oh, no. When I meant editor I meant the one at the university, the one I'm learning how to write from. I just started learning from an actual person wherein there actually consists conversations about plots and characters and stuff, rather than writing what I feel like writing. I have a long way to go before I get to a book. I'm still thinking if I want to pursue it professionally, but thank you for your comments. At least I know two people will buy it. Just enough royalties to buy myself lunch. :-D

B: Let me know what you think of Goat-man. I'm waiting for the verdict. I hope it's not 'You're turning into one of them' again. Maybe 'You're getting better at this' instead?:)

annablake: Here's another one hot off my now spent imagination! Tension indeed...

Okay, forgive me for not expressly mentioning each one of you but you should know that because of your awesome reviews, I've felt the need to also find out what happens next. Because after every post, I'm just as clueless as you guys and so I end up thinking about it, too. In fact, I'll probably have a scene in my head just as I'm about to sleep. So go on then. Let me know what you think.


	43. Memory

**Part Two, Chapter 16: Memory**

**memory ˈmem(ə)rē ˌmɛm(ə)ri ˌmɛm(ə)ri  
noun ( pl. -ries)  
a person's power to remember things  
something remembered from the past; a recollection**

_She reminds me of the one in school,  
when I was gutted she was dressed in white.  
And I couldn't take my eyes off her,  
but that's not what I took off that night,.  
She'll never cover up what we did with her dress.  
No.  
She said "kiss me it'll heal,  
but it won't forget".  
"Kiss me it'll heal,  
but it won't forget"._

-"Heart Shaped Glasses(When the Heart Guides the Hand)" by Marilyn Manson

He will not let go of me.

I try to wriggle out of Sebastian's arms but he holds me tighter with a teasing smile.

"I'll see you tonight?" He asks, kissing me.

"I told you, I can't. I already have plans with Blaine… We were supposed to go to shopping."

"At night?" He raises an eyebrow, bemused. "Kathryn, tell me the truth. Are you and Blaine having an affair?"

"Haha. It's our thing, so fuck off." I mutter sourly. "Let go, Sebastian. I mean it. Anybody might come into my office any second."

"So?"

"So I don't want them to see us like this."

"Why not?" He kisses me again. Softer this time. Like he plans to turn me into water. "You can't be ashamed of me. I'm handsome and rich. Most women would leave the door open just to be seen with me."

"I generally don't want my employees watching while a man tries to feel me up. It kind of ruins the whole scary, intimidating boss thing you know."

"Yeah, but you're just so…" His face scrunches. His nose wrinkles. His lips pout. Pulling out all the stops with the mouth.

"I know, but we've been at it for two weeks now. And to be honest, I'm getting sick of you already."

He frowns. I swear, he fucking frowns like he missed the part where I said that in a kidding manner. This time he holds on tightly. Possessively. His very sturdy body against mine. Seb.

"Now you've done it." He announces. "I'm really not going to let go until you're un-sick of me."

"There's no such word as 'un-sick'."

"You're missing the point." He rolls his eyes.

"You're being a pussy." I try wriggling again. No such luck. "An illiterate pussy at that."

"Why the hell do you have to be such a bitch?"

"Why the hell won't you let me go?" I counter, trying again. Nope. Still won't let go. "You're jealous of a homosexual?"

"Of course not. I told you, I'm not letting go until you're un-sick of me."

"Okay, I'm un-sick of you."

"Liar."

"Idiot."

"Calling me names won't help you get out of this predicament."

"Oh, your arms are bound to tire soon."

"You think so?" He inquires, rising to the challenge.

"I know so. It's physically impossible to stay like this for hours."

"But I want to." He smiles.

Holy mother of everything both holy and unholy. He's being sweet again. It's a mixture of me throwing up and me smiling. I don't know which. Again, it's both.

"I can't believe you just said that." A chuckle escapes me, and I forget all about being annoyed.

"What? It's true. I want to."

"Well, yes. But you're acting like you're my boyfriend."

"And I'm not?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Um. No?"

"Well, what am I?"

"You're a clingy man who refuses to let me go."

"Ouch."

"Sebastian, I mean it. I have work to do. We just fucked ten minutes ago, okay? I'm still tired. Standing up and being unable to move isn't helping."

My door opens and the smile slides off my face. Elle. The bitch who remains to be my friend (a friend I keep at arm's length to avoid being stabbed) looks at us for a brief moment. There's a hidden smile on her beautiful face. Satan's Eurasian child.

"Let go." I tell Sebastian. This time deadly serious. He understands this and immediately steps away from me. But it's too late. Cover's blown.

For the most part, he's oblivious. He even smiles at her. Then his smile wavers when someone else walks up to us. The brother. Satan's other incestuous child.

"Kathryn, I need to speak with you about something important." Elle says, her eyes flitting over to Sebastian to tell me that this did in fact indirectly include me. "Oh, by the way, Sebastian, this is my brother."

"Aaron." Ian interrupts, looking Sebastian over before offering his hand to shake. "Aaron Fox."

If Elle was surprised by this, she doesn't show it. Maybe that's one thing great about being a sociopath. Sebastian shakes Ian's hand politely before turning to me.

"I better go." He tells me, still smiling. Still in that happy glow while whatever miniscule glow there was in me was dying. "I'll call you, okay? Have fun with Tuttle tonight."

He closes the door. The fucked twosome step inside.

"Got plans with Blaine tonight?" Elle asks.

"Like you fucking care?"

They exchange a look.

"She's getting better." Elle says. "Selena's getting better. I'm sure Sebastian's told you?"

"Yeah, because we talk to each other about his other girlfriend." I reply snidely. I'm sure I'm the only living person who speaks to her like that.

"You should know that he's been speaking to Ben Dégat. They might move back to Paris again." Ian examines a framed photograph of Derrick and me nearby. He traces Derrick's face with his fingertip, glancing at his own reflection through the glass.

"He's not coming with her. He said it himself. He's here now."

"He said that because he was so close to having her committed again. Now, she's getting better. They're even fucking again." Elle grins at my obvious cringing.

"How the hell do you know this??"

"We have our ways." Ian places the photo back on the table.

"Listen, Kathryn." Elle hushes her brother before glancing at me. "As your friend, I feel like I should tell you this."

"You're my _friend_?" I remark, starting to get agitated. "Do sociopaths even have friends?"

Her eyes turn blue. How does she do that? Gray. Blue. Blue. Gray. Both. "I'm going to let Selena go. I wanted to tell you."

"Wait. What?"

Ian snorts derisively. "Conner."

"What?" I glance at him, confused.

"I already have something I want." Elle answers smoothly. "It's like gambling, Kathryn. Sometimes you just have to quit before you lose everything."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Kathryn." She says, sighing. Blue eyes. "We'll call it even, okay? Since you seemed to disapprove of what I was going to do to Selena, I'm backing off."

"You're with him now?"

"You can't expect everyone around you to wait forever." Strange, really. Under this light she looks so pure. She even had that inner peace glow I've only seen on Buddhists. "Nor can you expect him to be the same man after what's happened."

"Because you fucking murdered his family!"

"You really think I killed them?"

"Who else would it be? Conner? The butler did it, you think?" I laugh sardonically.

"He wanted them dead." Elle answers flatly. "You know what your problem is, Kathryn? You idealize him. You make him to be this perfect god, but he's not. He keeps so many things from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're too busy thinking about yourself. Conner or Sebastian or Derrick? That's how life works for you. You don't know him. You don't understand him, but he understands you. And for you, as long as he's there, that's fine."

"Elle, you can talk shit about anything else to me. That's fine. I'll let it go. But if you talk about that, I'm going to cut your fucking tongue off. You don't fucking know anything about Conner or me, for that matter."

"Think about it. What do you really know about Conner?"

"Get the fuck out of my goddamn office before I smack you with this paperweight."

Elle, as usual, isn't fazed by my threat. I was already clutching the paperweight as she turns to walk away. Ian starts to follow but as soon as she's out of sight, he returns to my office.

"Meet me tonight." He tells me urgently. "I have something I'm sure you'll find interesting."

"I'm not up for clandestine meetings with the brother of a sociopath, especially since the said brother is as perverse as she is. What do you want?"

"You want Selena so fucked up she won't even know what her name is and I want Valmont—Conner, not Sebastian—gone from Elle's life." Ian's teeth gleam as he grins. "I propose a new partnership."

"And what makes you think I'll trust you?"

"That's why I'm asking you to meet me tonight." He licks his lower lip. Bites the inside of his left cheek. Although he bears a striking resemblance to Derrick, up close I can see that Derrick, while handsome in his own way, is not even in the same league. "I want to show you something. I'm sure it'll change your mind."

"What?"

"Just come, okay?" He touches my face. Caressing it. I flinch. "Meet me at my hotel." He tells me the name.

"You're not staying with your sister anymore?"

His expression darkens. "We've having problems."

"Couple problems in incest land?" I chirp bitchily.

"Just be there." He doesn't wait for a reply. We both know I was going to show up anyway.

---

Ian's already at the hotel bar when I arrive. Ever the gentleman, he stands up to greet me. His eyes seem to flash when he notices the pendant that was Conner's ring around my neck as though he recognizes it. I don't care what you say. I like wearing it. I like feeling the cold platinum against my chest. By now, my engagement ring was resting in my jewelry box. The happy ending stored for safekeeping.

"Would you like a drink?"

I sit down. "This isn't a social call, Ian. Get to the point."

"A drink first." He raises a hand to the waiter and orders a martini for me. "Why the antagonism, Kathryn?"

"I told you. I don't like meeting this way."

He checks his watch, eyebrows knitting. Then he glances back at me with the same handsome smile that blew Derrick's way out of the park. "We're not going to have sex if that's what you're concerned about. I mean, I have no objections about having sex with you, but if you're worried I'm going to force you or something, then please don't think about it. It's not going to happen."

"I suppose I should be only mildly stung by that."

"Oh, I do find you very attractive. You're a beautiful woman." Ian replies. "It's just that I'm capable of controlling myself."

"So are you a sociopath like your sister or would you actually feel something if you killed someone?" I take a sip of the martini that the waiter sets down in front of me. Might as well. I think I need it.

Ian's mouth widens into a pleased grin, obviously enjoying himself. "Well, I've done things in the past… but I'm not like her. I do feel things."

"Like guilt?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel guilty that you just messed with a crazy person's head?"

"No." Ian shrugs. "Do you feel guilty that you're going to conspire to literally drive her insane just so you could have Sebastian?"

"Did I say I was going to agree to this 'partnership'?" I retort.

"It was an implied agreement." Ian's gaze probes into mine, making me uncomfortable. "You know, this love triangle of yours amuses me. Not that I give a damn, but which Valmont are you really aiming for? After Conner leaves Elle, he'll most likely come back to you. After Sebastian leaves Selena, he's yours too. So which one, really? Or you'd like them both at the same time?"

"How about you stop trying to analyze my life and just tell me what the fuck you were going to show me?"

"I find your candor unbelievably charming." Deep baritone. A trace of an unidentifiable accent. "No one speaks to me like that."

"What do you do to the ones who do? Slice them with your sword?" I continue mocking him. Trying to distract myself from his velvet voice and dark charm.

"No one's ever spoken to me like that." He repeats, this time his eyes give off a hardened gaze. "No one."

"Well, here I am. Guess there's a first time for everything."

He pauses, observing me as I idly ran my finger down the sweaty glass. "Elle's wanted Selena Wade dead for years." He admits. "That's why I know Conner's a threat to me. To us. Someone who can make her let go of something like that is trouble."

"Why does she want Selena dead?"

"It's moronic, really." He licks his lower lip again. I tried not to think of the other ways he put that tongue to use. Oh, goddamn you, Kathryn. Stop thinking about that. "I mean, if you really, really think about it. It's stupid. But it was important to her, so I supported it."

"Just tell me already."

And so he did. He starts talking and I find myself wrapped in the story.

I suppose I should let him talk. It's better if he's the one who does.

---

I had always loved Elle. She's beautiful, as I'm sure you know from having seen her, Kathryn. As children, I naturally gravitated towards my sister. She's two years older than me, but our relationship now isn't the same as it was when we were children. We had a normal childhood, as far as normal goes. Our Japanese mother was committed to a mental institution, but we rarely saw her. Our dad was Portuguese-American, a banker.

Keiko was the eldest. Ten years older than me. Everybody considered her to be the more beautiful one between her and Elle, and she was. You've seen a photo of her?

Yes. Of course you have. The one at Elle's house. It doesn't do Keiko justice. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'll tell you about my sister. Keiko. There was something wrong with her even from the beginning. She was the type of person everybody wanted to be with, but if you looked closely, you could see that there was something off. There was an unnatural light in her eyes, but people rarely noticed it. They were charmed by her smile, her laugh, and her words. Everything else but that peculiar light.

The person most affected of course, was Elle. Elle hung on to her every word. At that time, Keiko was working for Hector Wade. Keiko was very hard to ignore. When she wanted something, she got it. And she wanted Selena's dad. It didn't take long for them to have an affair, and at first I thought that this was another one of her passing fancies, but it wasn't. Being with him consumed her, and soon she was obsessed with him. She and Elle would talk about it, and as I said, I was never really a part of that. I only heard snippets once in a while. I understood, of course. Them being females.

"Come on, Ian, hurry up!" Elle called out, annoyed. She held a few shopping bags and stood next to Keiko, who only smiled at me. She could be warm when she wanted to.

We were at the mall. Keiko was in a generous mood and she wanted to buy us clothes. Even at the mall, you could detect the side glances my eldest sister was getting. I suppose that when you placed Elle next to her, Elle's glow would diminish. I was fourteen, and of course I loathed shopping. I was skulking, annoyed at the admiring glances people were throwing at Keiko and at times, even Elle. More so with Elle. Even then I felt a strange jealousy when someone stopped to talk to her.

As I made my way to them, Keiko's smile faltered. They both saw something behind me, so of course I turned to look. It was Hector Wade. He was with Selena. She was your age, I believe? Six or Seven? Anyway, the strange light that had always been in Keiko's eyes grew. She grabbed Selena and strode over to him, completely forgetting all about me. I struggled to follow, and as such, I saw Hector hold on to his daughter as though to protect her from Keiko. Wade generally looked like an amiable man, but at that point it was like he was ready to hit her. Selena was asleep in his arms.

"You didn't call me last night." Keiko purred, squeezing his arm. "Oh, what a beautiful little girl…"

As she tried to stroke Selena's hair, Hector jerked away from her. Elle was watching all of this. "Get away from her, you bitch." He snarled. "It's over, Keiko. I'm not leaving my family for you."

Keiko had the ability of quickly shedding one emotion for another. From seductive, she turned pleading. Manic. Still beautiful, in a scary manner. "I'm pregnant, Hector."

Our eyes widened. Hector's didn't.

"That's what you told me before. It's not true."

"But it is!" Keiko exclaimed, her blue eyes tearing up. I'm not sure if this was real, because my sister was like a chameleon. She placed her hand on her flat stomach, stroking it. "I feel it inside me… it misses you, Hector. _I_ miss you. Come back."

"Darling, I just saw the most beautiful dress for Selena." We both turned at the sound. It came from Alice Wade, and although she was gorgeous, Keiko was, admittedly, more attractive than her. But I watched Keiko. And she was watching Hector.

Selena started to stir. This was the defining moment of her life. Her movement caught Keiko's attention. Selena opened her eyes and said 'Daddy'. Then she hugged him closer. Keiko started to smile. Hector caught that, and he kissed Selena's head. He backed away from us.

"If you come near my or my family again…" He said quietly, but his eyes spoke of a threat. With that, he turned and walked away. Elle and I watched Keiko. Any attempts of having a pleasant day were gone.

Keiko quit her job at Wade Enterprises and didn't come home for a week. Elle went out of her mind trying to find her. She had the keys to Keiko's house and she would stay there alone. Our father never even noticed. Sometimes she'd let me visit her, and I'd stay with her until she fell asleep. I was furious with Keiko for doing this to her.

"Did she call you? Did she call Dad?" Elle asked me; her eyes had dark circles underneath. She looked so small it broke my heart.

I shook my head, looking up from my schoolwork. She was standing at my doorway.

"Ian, we should find her. You know she's… she could be like her."

By her she meant our mother.

"We've already tried, Elle."

Then she hesitated again. Tiptoed cautiously into my room and looked over her shoulder, like she was afraid of being caught. I was bigger than her, even though she was older. My stomach dropped and my heart jumped when she sat on my lap. She did this with such innocence I felt bad for thinking of her in a different manner. She wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder.

"This is all his fault." She breathed into my ear. "That bastard. I'm going to kill him."

Her voice was its usual breathy self, but her words had the same effect of someone throwing ice on me. I grabbed her shoulders until I could see her face. She looked at me, black hair framing her small face. Her eyes were blue. A heated blue.

She shifted her hips. There's no way of saying this without you being repulsed. My dick hardened. I had to stay so still so she wouldn't notice. At least, I hoped she wouldn't.

But this was Elle. She lost her virginity when she was thirteen. She's had plenty of boyfriends. Of course she'd notice. She blinked and cocked her head, repeating the same movement. A grunt escaped my throat.

"Ian…?" She seemed to forget about Keiko and cupped my face. Her breath was warm. Her mouth seemed so soft.

I felt ashamed. I felt like shit, like such a sick pervert for being this way. But I loved her so much. I tried to avert my eyes, but she told me not to. Said she wanted to look at me. And she did. It was like she was reading my every thought, seeing my every desire to have her.

"Sorry." I muttered, trying to push her off me.

"No, don't apologize." She replied, threading her fingers through my hair. "I'm not angry."

"I _should_ apologize. This isn't right." I willed my body to stop acting this way, but it refused to listen. Oh, god she was exquisite.

"Oh, Ian." She smiled, stroking my cheek. "My handsome, grown up Ian. I wish you weren't my brother."

"I do, too. But then I wouldn't be this attractive."

She laughed, a wonderful sound that reminded me of bells tinkling. She moved again, as though deliberately teasing me. This gave me the courage to say what I said next.

"I'd like to kiss you." I said.

She blinked slowly. "Okay."

Ah, sweet torture. She closed her eyes and her small mouth puckered slightly. It was my turn to touch her face. Caress it, every inch of unblemished skin I treasured. As my lips touched hers, something inside me exploded. My brain burned, every nerve seemed to crackle with electricity. I could have died right there. It wasn't a bad way to go. Eventually, she started to respond. Words cannot describe the elation when I felt her mouth move. She started kissing me back, and that one request turned into a long myriad of requests. She started rocking her hips against me. I will never be satisfied with another woman than with her, even if we never have sex. This was enough for me. It quickly evolved. I kissed her neck and she threw her head back, her fingers gripping my shirt tightly. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, that I didn't want anybody else but her. But I couldn't. So I just touched her, nibbled on her flesh and my hand found her breast. She whimpered, bit her lip.

"Stop." She said, breathing hard. "You have to stop."

And I did, even though every thought in my head concerned only throwing her on the bed and taking her clothes off. We both steadied ourselves, looking surprised at what happened. She slowly got off my lap and straightened her clothes. She glanced at the bulge in my pants, then back into my eyes.

"There's something wrong with me." I said.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's okay." She told me again, gently this time. "We just have to learn how to stop."

Keiko came back the next day. Elle went back to her, and once again they were in their own world. Every once in a while I'd catch her looking at me with such a soft look in her eyes that could be attributed to affection. At least that's what I wanted to think. I tried to stop, like she said. It never lasted long. I always went back to thinking about her.

But back to Keiko and Hector. As I've said repeatedly, Keiko was stunningly beautiful, with almond shaped eyes and porcelain skin. There was also something delicate about her, even though she was in fact quite the opposite. A lot of modeling agencies wanted her, and just because she felt like it when she was a teenager, she appeared in several ads. Ultimately, she didn't want to pursue a career in modeling.

Upon hearing that Alice Wade was a former model and that she was a close friend of the designer Benjamin Dégat, Keiko decided she wanted to be a model after all. It was easy finding an agency for her. She could just walk in and people would fall all over themselves to get her. It took her four months before she booked a Dégat show. Alice Wade was there. Alice knew Keiko used to work for her husband and nothing more. Keiko used her charm and soon, they were close friends as well. As you can imagine, this created all sorts of tension between her and Hector. I don't know the specifics, since she only confided with Elle. Her attachment to him was unhealthy, and there would be days wherein she'd be as high as a kite, and other days wherein she would refuse to come out of her room. Being friends with his wife enabled her to get invites to family functions. Keiko began to focus on Selena. Why, I don't really know. I guess she figured that Selena was the root of all the problem, and that once she was gone, Hector would finally be able to leave his wife.

That's irrational, right? Well, that was how Keiko rationalized things. This went on for while, until there was a time when she took Selena without permission and spent the day with her. Hector was livid. He went to her house later that night and scared the shit out of her. There were bruises on her body, I didn't know if they were self inflicted or if he had really hurt her.

Keiko had called Elle, and Elle had begged me to come with her. I could never resist Elle.

As soon as the car stopped, Elle jumped out and ran to the front door. It was open. I pocketed the keys and went in to find my sisters on the floor. Keiko was staring at the wall; her knees were scraped and bloody. She had a split lip and a nasty looking black eye.

"Keiko," Elle sobbed, trying to shake her out of her stupor but she didn't respond. "Ian, do something!"

I carried Keiko and laid her on her bed, but still her eyes remained glassy. Elle was looking for the first aid kit. I took a washcloth and ran it under the warm water, squeezing out the excess water. I proceeded to wipe the blood from her face, frowning. Wanting to kill that bastard. I would have helped Elle at that point.

Keiko's fingers wrapped around my wrist and I found myself looking at her. Into her. The unnatural light was growing brighter.

"Little brother." She whispered. "There's something wrong with me."

"No," I said, even though I believed she was right. I did believe there was something wrong with her. With me. Sometimes I think even with Elle. "You just need to go to a hospital okay? I'll take you right now."

She shook her head. Her hand closed around mine and she brought it to her lips, kissing my palm. "I just need to rest. I have things to do… just… rest… can you and Elle stay the night?"

I had a history test the following day but I couldn't say no. I told her Elle and I would stay with her, and we did.

The accident happened a week later. Keiko sent photos of her and Hector in bed to Alice Wade just as Hector was about to board a plane to Zurich on business. Alice called her husband, and Hector canceled his flight. They had a discussion and both decided to take a break in the country with Selena, since it was her birthday. The car crash happened with Sebastian's mother. They all died, except for Selena. Keiko probably blamed herself for it. If she had just waited until Hector was in Zurich to send the photos, then they would have never decided to go to the country. _He_ would have never died.

As soon as the news broke out, Elle grabbed the keys and ran to her car. I was worried, so I followed her. I was about five minutes behind Elle.

I got to Keiko's house just as a loud bang resonated in the air. My feet were like lead. I opened the door and there she was, staring blankly at the blood-spattered wall. The hole at the back of Keiko's head was still smoking from the gun.

That was when Elle changed. Her face was drained of any color, but she didn't scream. She didn't do anything. The emotions left her. It was only a ghost of what she had been now.

I ran to her, pulled her away from the sight roughly. I was protecting my big sister from the sight, but I knew it was too late. It had gotten to her. I covered her eyes, hugging her tightly. She was limp.

We stayed like that for a minute. I was telling her it was okay, although my words were incoherent to my own ears. Elle allowed me to hold her, to reassure her even though we both knew it was futile.

Her body felt cold and clammy. Eventually, she spoke.

"We have to call the police." She said, her voice calm and clear. She removed herself from my arms and stared at me. It was like staring at a piece of ice. "Come on, Ian." She stood up first, tugging my hand impatiently. As I reached for the phone, I watched in horror as she walked up to the corpse. She sat down next to Keiko and stroked her hair, ignoring the blood on her hands. She even reached for Keiko's necklace and unclasped it. Her finger accidentally dipped into the gory hole but she didn't care.

She saw me watching her and pocketed the necklace.

"I loved this necklace." She just said simply. And then she went to the kitchen, got a glass of water and prepared a salad for herself. She watched an old sitcom and laughed at the punch lines while I waited for the cops to come.

---

"Holy shit." I gasp.

Ian smiles. "Now I have your attention. We should go up to my room now." He checks his watch again. An hour had passed. Then he nods. "Right on time."

"On time? For what?"

He doesn't reply. I was in a daze as he leads the way to his room, my mind still filled with the image of the Fox siblings as children. I glance at him. I wondered to what extent the damage was in Ian's case. He seemed unconcerned, and every once in a while a smile would often come to his mouth like he remembered a pleasant day.

His room was neat and organized. There was a laptop on the table, along with a suitcase. Probably from work. I didn't even know what he did.

He plugs in the laptop to the widescreen TV and tells me to sit on the bed.

"Ready?" He checks his watch again, grinning.

"For what?"

He types something on the keyboard and turns on the TV.

It was a video of Sebastian's place. He was there with Selena.

It was in real time.

"Oh my god." My mouth dries up.

"But that's not all." He types another series of commands. This time I was looking at another setting.

"This happened a week ago." He says, watching my reaction. My eyes leave Sebastian just as he pores over paperwork. It was at Elle's house. Conner was there. And he was hurting himself. Elle was watching him. Oh, god. And then he's done. She tends to his wounds. Then he looks at her, touches her face, her hair. The camera zooms in. His dark eyes soft. Then she murmurs something in his ear and then their faces are growing closer and closer and closer oh god not him he can't do that not with her—

I close my eyes, turning away from the screen. "Turn it off." I bark at Ian, although my voice quivers. "Turn the fucking thing off now!"

But he doesn't. He only closes the video showing Elle and Conner. He places his hands on my shoulders, leaning in like he was my goddamn conscience. "Not yet." He whispers. "You're missing the best part."

I open my eyes just as someone knocks on Sebastian's door. He opens it to find a package wrapped in brown paper. Ian zooms in to catch the expression of perplexity cross over Sebastian's face. He was so handsome.

"What's that?"

Ian only grins.

Sebastian opens the package. There's a DVD inside. He checks on Selena first, who's asleep, before he pops the DVD in the player.

Selena's moans fill the air. It's so loud I could've sworn Ian wanted it that way. His smile grows wider. It's their video, only edited. His face was never seen.

Sebastian scrambles to lower the volume, but he doesn't turn it off. Even from here, the pain he's feeling is apparent. He shuts his eyes tightly and then opens them again, suffering through the agony. Suffering even more when Ian starts talking to Selena. The voice in the video is distorted, giving it a more frightening quality.

"Jesus." Sebastian says, putting his head in his hands. He looks destroyed. Forlorn. He takes the DVD out and breaks it in half, throwing it against the wall. "Goddamn it!"

He paces for a long time. And then he goes to the room and watches Selena sleep. He gets into bed with her, cradling her against him.

"I don't want to see this!" I screech, ripping out the wires that connected the laptop to the TV.

Ian taps his forehead the way he had done when I had lunch with him. The smile is back in full force. "Like I said, see all and know all."

* * *

A/N: Okay, I have a confession. I've hijacked CI and twisted it into my own weird novel. Sorry. Next time I'll make all the characters and not post it here. My bad. 

Lie4ever: It makes perfect sense. I like Conner so much that I've written him and K together for my own personal enjoyment in the word document for this story. So even if it's KS, I have my own secret version of Conner and Kathryn together. I might post the scenes after this story's done. Kind of like the deleted scenes in DVDs.

Alexia: Oh, don't worry. She's going to take action pretty soon. All in due time.

Annablake: Glad you find Elle and Ian fascinating. They were never supposed to be this complex, but I'm glad they're evolving.

Everybody else (sorry I'm supposed to be revising my other story so I gotta go do that even though it's soooo hard): Thanks for reading even up until this point. Your reviews rock my world. And they fuel this urge to write and find out what happens next. I'm as clueless as you guys are sometimes. So press that button and leave me something. Click, type, submit. Till the next one! (Before my editor kills me for not submitting my 3rd draft)


	44. Kiss

**Part Two, Chapter 17: Kiss**

**kiss kis kɪs kɪs  
verb [ trans.  
touch with the lips as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting**

_She's shaking in the car with the gun in her hands,  
Falling over love and a sweet romance,  
And I ain't never thought it could come down to this,  
A bullet in my head, with the sweetest kiss..._

-"Bullets" by Augustana

I'm glancing at the mirror behind Ian's shoulder and I see something wrong with it immediately. Like it's one of those photos that's compared to another photo and you have to spot the difference.

I suppose by this time it would be futile to tell you how extremely handsome Ian is. In different angles, I think he's even better looking than the Valmonts. Or maybe it was just the mystery of him that made him more attractive to me, I didn't know. Anyway, ever since that night at his hotel room, I had been spending more time with him. There was of course, the Sebastian thing. But these days he was so wrapped up in work that I rarely saw him, and if I did see him, it was only through the television in Ian's room. He didn't do anything exciting, to be honest. And when Selena was there, I'd listen to them talk. They talked about her condition, of course. But most of the time their conversations were filled with references to the past, something that I had no idea what to make of. I wasn't being particularly clingy. In fact, there were days when I preferred watching him like that. It was like he was mine and yet he wasn't.

Ian had to caution me several times to bide my time and not strangle his sister. Sometimes I'd see Conner in her house.

"Tell me," Ian says, his big blue eyes startling me from my thoughts. "do you think Conner wants to be with her?"

"No." Comes my quick answer. "He wants me."

"Why doesn't he come after you then?"

"Because I don't know what I want."

"Oh." Ian scratches his jaw. "Well, listen, Kathryn. He's coming back tonight. They're supposed to meet, but I can keep her preoccupied. You take him."

_You take him. _Says this so casually, as if Conner were some easy object to grab.

My phone rings and I glance at the screen. Sebastian's photo (taken during one of our better nights and he was under the impression that he was being funny) smiles up at me. ("So you won't forget my face in case I decide to disappear again." I had shoved him. "That's not funny, Sebastian!").

Then I know why I felt that way. Like there was something wrong. The setting remains the same, but the times and the leading man had changed. It was Sebastian I was supposed to be meeting like this, him I should discuss about a scheme.

Ian watches me like he knows what I'm thinking about. My face grows hot as I answer.

"Yes?"

"Hi." Sebastian replies, sounding breathless. "Am I late? I'm on my way up to your office now, I'm really sorry I got held up at work—"

"Um… what are you talking about?"

"Jesus, Kathryn. You don't remember? We were supposed to go out today."

"Shit. I mean, I can't. I'm out with a client."

"In case it's escaped your attention, I haven't even seen you for weeks now." He's suddenly cold, his voice expressionless.

"God, will you stop being so goddamn clingy? It's so pathetic." I sneer, rolling my eyes.

"I'm leaving the country in a month." He's hurt now. I can hear it. When did he become like some… puppy? "For business. You know that."

No. It's for your crazy girlfriend/charity case. I wanted to say but couldn't. Maybe that was the other reason why I didn't want to see him.

"I don't understand why this is so fucking difficult." He admits angrily, as though my silence had spurned him. "I just want to see you, that's all. I miss you already, okay? Even though you're not talking right now, I can tell you're getting ready to argue with me."

I check my nails.

"I'm sorry I went off on you, Kathryn. I guess I was just really looking forward to today, but it's okay. You're working. I understand… will you please call me after though? We'll make plans for tonight."

"I'll try."

He hesitates. "I miss you." Sebastian repeats. "We need to fix this. Things have been weird lately."

"We've been working."

"Still." He replies. "There's something wrong. I can sense it."

"I have to go." I snap the phone shut without waiting for him to reply.

Ian watches me, smiling drolly. I ask him for a cigarette and he lights one up for me.

"Tell me how to get to Conner."

Let me tell you something. Sebastian and I, sure, we're great together when things are good. Sometimes I think I don't need anything else because when it's great with him, it's really great. But I'm still me. And I still do things that'll hurt other people. It's just the kind of person I am. I'm not going to justify what I'm about to do. It must be the boredom, the dryness of it all. The waiting. The waiting most of all, because I can only wait so long. My patience and compassion may have grown over the years as I've matured, but like everything else, they both had their limits.

---

Ian Fox the Satan-angel, miracle worker. I don't know how he manages it, but as soon as I walk into the restaurant late at night, I immediately see Conner waiting. For Elle, of course. But minor details.

I needed to get him away from her. It was one of the reasons why I was here.

I come up behind Conner, covering his eyes. He tenses for a while, and his hands cover mine.

"Elle?" He smiles. "Quit acting silly."

As if on autopilot, my eyes go half shut, brushing my mouth against his cheek. "Wrong answer." I whisper. "Have you really forgotten me?"

His smile wavers. His entire body freezes up. He reaches up to touch my face, and then down my neck. He finds his ring resting against my chest. The thing I've hidden from Sebastian and yet always kept with me.

"I thought we were married now?" I continue, resisting the urge to fuck him. "You said so before you left, remember?"

"Kathryn." He says quietly.

I remove my hands and he turns to look at me. He carries a burden, the weight of it only visible through the sorrow in his eyes. What had Elle been doing to him?

"What are you doing here?" Conner asks, still stunned.

"I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here without bothering to call me?"

His mouth opens and closes. His mouth on her mouth. Goddamn bitch.

"I don't get a proper welcome at all?" I hold out my arms and he stands up, looking down at me for a moment before giving me a hug. He kisses my cheek awkwardly, and I grab his face and go straight for his mouth, acting like some depraved whore. Everyone else was looking at us. I briefly wondered if one of Sebastian's friends was there, but then what did he care? Didn't he get to diddle Ms. Crazy Heiress once in a while?

"Christ." He says after our mouths part. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." I tug his arm. "Elle won't be coming tonight. Shall we go now?"

The Alfa Romeo. I had missed it terribly. Conner gets into the driver's seat and I ask him to take us to his hotel.

He seems tense as he drives. He grips the wheel too hard and barely pays any attention to me. I only watch him because if I didn't, then I'd think about other things and I'd ask myself other things too and right now I didn't want to.

"Conner." I say instead. I take his hand, playing with his fingers.

"What?"

"I want you to fuck me."

We almost hit the pedestrian had it not been for his reflexes. He looks at me finally, blinking those big dark eyes of his. He licks his mouth and I want to lick his mouth for him too.

"Kathryn, please."

"Please what? Please don't? Please get out of the car? Please take my clothes off?"

He shakes his head slightly.

"Is it her? Is that it? You've found someone better suited for you? You don't know what she's like—"

"Yes, I do know what she's like." He snaps angrily, showing the strongest hint of emotion I've seen him do. "Quit telling me that. I know what she's like, okay?"

"And… you like it?" I ask, horrified.

"That appalls you?" Conner says in the same dead voice. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've disappointed you? I'm not perfect, Kathryn."

I recalled Elle's words. _You know what your problem is, Kathryn? You idealize him. You make him to be this perfect god, but he's not. He keeps so many things from you._

"What the fuck happened to you?"

His mouth twists into a grimace. We arrive at his hotel and wordlessly get out of the car for the valet to attend to it. He keeps his head low but his hand extends out to me. The only familiar gesture I've seen on him ever since I saw him again.

"Conner, what happened—"

Just like before, he grabs me, this time pulling me into the elevator. And then his hands are all over me and he's kissing me hungrily, sweetly, the way he had always done in the past. I'm writhing underneath him, grasping his clothes.

"I love you." He whispers into my ear just as the elevator opens, and I stand there paralyzed until he picks me up like I was his bride and we go to his room. I'm kissing his neck nibbling devouring him more and more because he said he loved me and not that sociopath Elle or maybe he loves us both and he wants for us to be one person the way I wanted him and Sebastian to somehow mold into one—

He slips his tongue inside me. Oh god.

There is no guilt tonight, in the hours we've fucked and talked and fucked again. He turns into the man that he was, and we're laughing and talking and touching intimately like lovers and I even fall asleep in his arms. I'd wake up from time to time to check if he'd left. I did that to Sebastian, too.

---

My cell phone rings incessantly, waking me up. Conner groans and tries to grab the offending phone with his eyes closed but he ends up snuggling against me and I laugh to myself and pick it up.

"Ms. Merteuil, I'm sorry to disturb but this is Bill from…" He explains that there was a man sleeping outside my door and apparently he's been there for hours and should he kick the man out? He was starting to scare the other occupants of the building.

"Who is it?"

"It's the man who's been here a couple of times, Ms. A blond man, curly haired I think. He came here before my shift, but…"

"Um… I'll be there." Shit. Shit. Shit. I end the call and try to get up. Conner's sleep remains undisturbed. I wonder how long he'll be in town this time, or if he'll even be there when I come back. I stealthily gather my things.

I stand over him later on, fully dressed. I nuzzle his neck and he murmurs sleepily.

"Sweet dreams." I say because there's nothing else to say.

---

From one sleeping beauty to another.

Sebastian's lucky he wasn't molested by my horny sex maniac neighbor. He leans against my door, slouched with his chin to his chest and he's snoring a little. I was tempted to put a plastic cup beside him and a sign begging for change just to piss him off when he wakes up the next day but I didn't of course.

I nudge him with my foot.

He opens his eyes, scratching his head irritably. As he looks at me, the irritation disappears.

"Hey," He says, his voice raspy. "I was waiting for you."

"No need to state the obvious, Valmont."

He stands up, massaging his stiff neck. "Where were you?"

"At Blaine's." I lie easily.

"Why didn't you call?" He rubs his eyes. "I was waiting for you to call."

"What's with all the questions? I'm here, aren't I?" I open the door, walking quickly. I still smelled Conner on me and was hoping that Sebastian wouldn't be able to.

Sebastian follows and heads to a separate bathroom. The bathroom we've both established was his. He washes his face, freshens up. I was about to take a bath when I hear him behind me.

"Hey, Kathryn, you know what?" He holds a drink in his hand, though his eyes were still puffy from his nap.

"What?"

"I really love you." He takes a sip, his eyes peering into mine as though testing me.

I stare at him for a while, feeling that familiar tug inside me.

"Thank you." I reply, turning around just in time to catch a glimpse of his face fall through the mirror. He stands there looking so unsure of things but I had to wait until I had properly washed myself before I asked him to join me. Join me, he did. I trace his mouth, now slick with water and he's smiling at me. So yielding. He tries to touch me between my legs but I stop him and I ask him to hug me instead because right now that's all I feel like doing.

He does this without asking why. When the shower begins to obstruct our sight, he reaches out to turn it off but I still don't move.

"Kathryn," He murmurs, stroking my tangled hair. "Are you okay?"

I nod.

"Did I surprise you with what I said?" He continues talking to me gently, as if I never made him wait outside my door for hours. "Are you suddenly feeling the urge to run like hell now?" He chuckles, sounding so warm and affectionate.

"A little." I admit, feeling the hard knots of his muscles as I hold on to him.

"Well, I'm sorry." Sebastian teases. "I mean, I know it's not exactly everyday that someone tells you that and actually means it, right?"

I nod again.

* * *

A/N: Dun. Dun. Duuuuun. Same old cracker. Thanks for the reviews and for reading and like everything else in life. I want more and more and more so go on, you know the drill. Hahaha 

B: Sorry if I freaked you out. But I'm okay now. This chapter helped.


	45. Slowly

**Part Two, Chapter 18: Slowly (She lets him)**

**slowly ˈslōlē ˌsloʊli  
adverb  
at a slow speed**

_He understood that these were extraordinary times, and if their old life was ever restored to them, nothing would be the same._

-An excerpt from "Bel Canto" by Ann Patchett

I notice the smoke first before I ever realize they were there. I feel the heat even from where I am, and the crackling of the fire as it devoured Alana Vaughn. Or Alana Valmont. I had never been used to calling her that.

Elle's there with Conner. They're seated in front of the fire and my eyes are tearing up from the thick smoke but Elle's gray-blue eyes are clear. She watches the fire impassively. Conner's not as composed. He's openly weeping for them, crying big tears that sound like raindrops as they hit the ground.

"Conner." I call out but he doesn't hear me and even though I try to go to him, I don't close the distance between us.

"Conner!" I yell again, but he still continues crying quietly.

I suddenly feel a hand slip into mine. It isn't Sebastian's. I'd know if it were.

"Hey, gorgeous." Ian grins, his cheeks flushed red. "Sorry for the interruption but I figured you'd need help."

I try to take my hand away but he holds on firmly. Ian purses his mouth, his blue eyes twinkling. "I'm not so bad, am I?"

"I beg to differ. Let go of my hand."

He chuckles, cupping my face with his hands. "You're so goddamn interesting, you know that?" Then he stares at my mouth and leans in. Kisses me. All men kiss and taste differently. It's like kissing a mint, licking off the sugary coldness that feels pleasant to the tongue.

He stops the kiss, smiling with closed eyes. "I've wondered about that." He confesses. His eyes slowly open and he smiles at me. Goddamn charming handsome man. "Don't worry. I was just curious. I'm not going to tell you I love you, because I don't. Besides, aren't you just sick of hearing that?"

"Why can't he hear me?"

Ian looks at his sister and Conner. "Elle." He utters this so softly it was impossible for her to hear him, but she did. Her eyes turn to him and she smiles.

"What the hell?"

"Come on." He takes my hand again, leading me towards them. This time, we reach Conner. I let go of Ian's hand and call him again. He finally looks at me.

"No." He says. "No."

"Kathryn." The same voice behind me. I look. It was another Conner. It was him, really him. His smoldering eyes, the light in them familiar to me even though he was far away. I look from the Conner in front of me. I shake his shoulders, but he keeps saying no no no.

I touch his face. Then I press my mouth against his. It's cold. And Faraway Conner's watching this and he's calling out for me but he says he can't reach me what was happening?

"What the fuck did you do?" I yell at the Fox siblings, slapping Elle and hitting Ian.

"Kathryn, I really love you." Sebastian this time. He steps out of the flaming car totally unscathed. "Come on. We have to go."

"No!" I scream at him. "No! No! No!"

My eyes suddenly open, and my body jolts up. I look around, trying to find out where I am. I was seated, reclining against a sleeping Conner who had his arm around me. He moves when I do and slowly opens his eyes.

"Hi." He says softly, kissing my forehead. "Bad dream?"

I nod. Then he smiles, pulling me closer so I can snuggle against him.

"It's okay." He replies. "I'm here. I'm staying until you don't want me to stay anymore."

I blink, looking at him. Wondering where Sebastian was and at the same time wishing he wasn't anywhere nearby. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Good." I rub my eyes sleepily. "What time is it?"

"Just a little after five." He groans as he stands up, letting go of me. From the looks of it, we had fallen asleep on the sofa. "You hungry?"

"A little." I stretch, yawning. "You'll cook for me?"

Conner heads to the kitchen, grinning. Then he starts taking out things from the fridge, every once in a while he'd glance at me and he'd smile.

Then he starts talking, and at first his voice sounds fine but then it starts getting fainter and fainter.

"I can't hear you." I say, standing up.

He frowns. Stops talking. Then talks again. It's like he's mouthing something, but I can't tell what.

"Conner, I can't hear you." I walk to the kitchen but I can't, because there's a glass wall between us but he doesn't seem notice it and he's oblivious, still smiling and chopping up things to cook.

I knock on the glass wall and I keep knocking but he doesn't notice me. He's cut his hand while chopping up a carrot and he's bleeding all over but he doesn't stop.

"Hey, you." Sebastian comes up from behind me, pulling me into a hug. He smells like he's just woken up. "Where've you been? I missed you."

"Something's wrong." I tell him. "Something's wrong with him."

"Who?" Sebastian asks, looking at me concernedly. He peers into my eyes. "Baby, you okay? Are you sick? You're not getting the flu, are you?"

"You don't see?" I motion at the kitchen, where Conner's busy cooking with the ingredients bathed in his blood. "Something's fucking wrong! We… I have to help him!"

"Kathryn, nobody's there."

"Nobody? Conner's in the fucking kitchen, Sebastian!"

He shakes his head, holding me close. "Conner's not there. Nobody's there, okay? We're alone."

"We're not alone, he's there!" I knock against the glass but this time it doesn't make a sound. There's so much blood now and Conner's still smiling at me, not the creepy, scary kind of smile that Ian sometimes has. It's a smile that's filled with warmth, his eyes affectionate. _Your hand. _I mouth, pointing at his cut. S_top it. You have to stop cooking._

He shakes his head and shrugs. Then he mouths back. _I love you._

The blood creates a puddle on the floor and I can't break the glass why can't I break the fucking glass why won't Sebastian help? Why's he just standing there hugging me and kissing me like nothing's happening?

_Conner, please!_

The magic word. It seems like it is, because he stops. He looks at his hand and looks surprised to see it. He examines the cut closely. His skin's too pale now. The blood on the floor's too much. He moves too slowly. Sluggish. Then his eyes roll back and he falls and he's not breathing. I know it. He's not breathing anymore. Elle steps into the kitchen wearing white and she sees him and she doesn't do anything but lie on the floor with next to his body. She wraps her arm around Conner and she closes her eyes, sleeping. The white turns to red. Sleeping beauty and the dead prince.

And Ian and Keiko Fox were also there, watching impassively. They watch their sister and I'm begging for Sebastian to stop being jealous because if he helps me I swear I'll choose him I swear it I fucking swear it just get her off him please it's not fair he saved me before and I owe him and I think I need him he's my friend you don't understand!

Just please, Sebastian please do this for me!

Keiko reaches out and grabs Sebastian from me. She takes the kitchen knife and stabs him in one quick motion before he can even react.

Sebastian! God, no!  
---

"No what? Do what for you?" Sebastian's urgent voice wakes me up. He's shaking me, looking at me intently.

I'm breathing heavily, unaware that I had been clutching the blankets until my fingers started to hurt. His voice continues, urgent, concerned, scared. He strokes my hair, kisses my forehead, one muscular arm around me.

"Do what for you? What do you need me to do?" He continues, kissing the back of my head while I calm down. "Tell me, Kathryn. Tell me how I can make it better, because I'll do it. You know I will, just tell me."

"I'm fine." I clear my throat, trying to push him away. "Please let me go."

His body tenses. Then he complies, and I get off the bed, avoiding his gaze.

"That's it? That's all you're gonna fucking say? You were crying in your sleep for fuck's sake! Tell me what's wrong!"

"It's called a _dream_, Sebastian." I head for the bathroom, splashing water on my face. Get a grip, Kathryn. God. How pathetic are you these days?

"Well, excuse me for giving a fuck about you." He retorts, sounding pissed.

"You're excused." I answer snottily, rolling my eyes. "I have to go in a few minutes."

"It's Saturday. You don't have to go to work."

"I'm not going to work." I reply, checking my reflection. There's a long pause.

"Where are you going then?"

"Blaine's."

"Why?"

"Because I want to. What's it to you?" I brush past him and head for my drawers.

He doesn't answer, but his movements are tense. He jams his boxers on, grabs his clothes, and storms out, slamming the door. My heart jumps but it returns to its normal rate. I hear him close the door to the other bathroom. I take a bath, mentally planning my day. Conner's hotel. Then a talk with Ian.

I wasn't really expecting Sebastian to be outside when I finished bathing, but he was. He's finishing a glass of water, gulping it down. He places the glass on the table. I'm already dressed and ready to go. His hair still looks rumpled.

"Sometimes you make it so hard for me." His clothes are also rumpled. "And most of the time, I deserve it. But there are times when I don't, Kathryn."

He leaves. Actually, we both do. Only we don't talk in the elevator all the way to our respective cars.

---

Conner's hotel. Conner's room that was no longer his room. The maids were already cleaning it. Vacuuming every trace of him. Washing the sheets with us lingering on it. I watch them for a while until one of them notices me.

"Ms. Merteuil?" She asks.

I nod.

She hands me a small envelope. Like one of those that you put on gifts that contain small cards. It's lumpy though.

"When did he leave? Where did he go?" I take the envelope.

The maid shrugs. "He only instructed me to give it to you this morning, I'm sorry."

One plain card. The Valmont crest on his ring.

K,

Always.

C.

---

Ian slips off his sunglasses as he joins me later that day, giving me a smile that meant we were now more than acquaintances at this point.

"Conner's gone."

"Elle's gone, too." He answers.

"You think they're together?"

Ian shrugs. He orders his meal. I wasn't in the mood to eat anything. Sebastian hasn't called. Still angry. I can't blame him. Fucked up is as fucked up does, always wanting what I can't have and always rejecting the ones I do.

"Can you find him?"

He stares at me, conveying something. I know it. His blue eyed stare was something I was used to now.

"Not now." He takes my hand as a friend would. "Go to Sebastian. He's leaving soon. Things are going to change once he leaves. I promise you that."

"What do you mean?" His hand feels cold against mine.

Ian smiles. The handsome demon. "Just trust me. Spend time with him. As much as you can. There's going to be time for Conner."

"Ian…"

"Hmm?"

"There are times when you alarm me."

His eyes soften. He presses his mouth against my palm. The fire from his kiss burns a hole through my skin.

---

I call Sebastian up.

"What is it?" He sounds tired. He's at his study. I'm in Ian's room, watching him talk to me.

"Look… I'm sorry, okay? I'm just not used to this." I zoom in to his face, leaning in all the same. Ian's in the other room, reading.

"You think you're the only one?" He replies. He's stopped writing in his journal. I wish I could see what's in it.

"I know, Seb. That's why I said I was sorry. You know I don't apologize very often."

"So I should feel honored that you've decided to call?"

"It's not that." I defend myself, annoyed by his sarcasm. "It's just…"

"What?" He's still angry. Look at the way his eyebrows move. The way his lips are pressed.

"You're leaving."

"And?"

"And you'll be gone for a while."

"So? It won't be any different. You practically run away from me anyway. Now you can stay still for a few weeks."

I don't reply. I wait for him to cool off. He plays with his pen. Doodles on the legal pad nearby. He scratches his head. Lights a cigar.

"Still mad?" I ask.

"Whatever, Kathryn."

"I'll miss you, you know." I hesitate. "When you're gone."

His frown disappears as a smile blossoms on his mouth. Then it's getting wider and wider. Like I'd just said I wanted him to tie me up and fuck me fifty times in all the positions he likes.

"See?" He answers, sounding happy. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Whatever, Seb." I smirk. "Goodnight."

Click.

* * *

A/N: Bored? I am. A little. We all need a break from Kathryn's stream of consciousness. Pick a character and I'll get into his/her head for the majority of the next chapter. Actually, scratch that. I'll get into all of their heads. Sebastian. Kathryn. Conner. Elle. Ian. Maybe Blaine. We'll see, I don't know yet. Big promises on my part, I've no idea if I can pull it off. If I can...

The next chapter might: 1) Indirectly trigger the series of events that's going to happen (and yet not specifically revealing it…) BUT 2) Provide a deeper insight as to why they are the way they are (yes, even the fucked up Fox siblings). Just to see if you're still reading this, help me out a little. In this very, very long story, would you like to know a piece of history told through someone else's voice? It doesn't matter if it's happened or not, obviously. Elle and Ian were never in the first chapter directly. Like: "What happened when Seb's car rammed that pole in Paris?" Or: "What was Conner thinking at the time that dear old (dull) Derrick popped the question to Kathryn?" Better yet: "What the hell was it like on his part when they fucked for the first time?" Hmmm. "How did he feel when she came to him that night?" Or: "Did Elle and Ian ever really do it? How are they behind closed doors, far from the very prying eyes of our usual female protagonist? What about Conner and Elle? What do they do? How do they interact?" And don't be sneaky. Only stuff about what's already happened, not whom K wants or what's going to happen next. Really think about it, you don't have to ask what I think you're going to ask.

Ready, steady, type.


	46. Elle Fox

We interrupt the regular programming for the chance to get into the other characters' heads. Upon seeing the heading: "**Part Two, Chapter 19:**", that will signal that we're back on track. Right now, we're really not. These are stories within a story. I'm babbling. You really don't want to read this anymore so fiiiine.

**A Series of Stories That Aren't Told By Our Fickleminded Heroine  
**

I.

_  
My life_

_You electrify my life_

_Let's conspire to ignite_

_All the souls that would die just to feel alive_

-"Starlight" by Muse

-

You say:

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Gray eyes with splashes of blue in them look up, the soft mouth quirking into a demure smile that one generally finds both disarming and alarming. She stops reading from the blue folder in front of her, resting her hands on the desk of her office as she stares at you. Yes. You.

"What makes you ask?" Comes her voice, seemingly gentle and subdued. It's the voice nuns or equally mild mannered people have.

You fidget. You can't help but fidget when she stares at you. "I just want to know."

She considers your answer, the smile never leaving her face. You look at her well-manicured hands and wonder how many people those hands had hurt. It's just hard to imagine, could the same small pair of hands ever really hurt anyone?

The answer is yes. Of course those beautiful hands could hurt people. If they haven't already.

And then she blinks innocently. She doesn't answer. She only continues smiling that beautiful soft smile of hers.

She has you and you don't even know it.

The end.

---

He goes to me when he can. That's what he says. I think he goes to me when he can't look at himself in the goddamn mirror and he can only bear looking at himself through the reflection my eyes have of him. Because I see him differently, a marble god of divinity.

Kathryn's an idiot.

No, I truly think she is. I mean, she's highly intelligent and conversations with her can be insightful. But she's an idiot because she's had him for so long and she never really did anything except flirt with him or whatever the fuck it is that she does/did to him before/now. If I had Conner, I would have never allowed that much time to pass.

Well, now I do. And it was worth the wait, I tell you. Oh so fucking worth the wait.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Ian's voice drifts through the mental cloud and I tilt my neck to see him open the door and peer at me. Involuntarily, my heart skips a beat. Skip. Thump. My brother is a handsome man. He opens the lights and I shield my eyes for a moment to accustom to the sudden brightness.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, surprised and secretly glad that he was here. Things hadn't been going well for us lately.

I feel him sit on my bed. I remove my hands from my eyes and he just looks at me. That stare. He has the color of Daddy's eyes and the intensity of Mom's. Manic, turbulent, and yet a degree of calmness that generally made my heart feel both still and jumpy.

"Oneesan." He says. Older sister. He hadn't called me that in ages.

"Otouto." I answer, smiling faintly. Younger brother.

Ian's eyelids lower. He looks downwards, taking in the curves of my body. My breasts. The slight curve at my hips. Even the way my toes curl.

He tells me. "I love you, Elle."

The way he says this….

He holds up his hand and I hold mine against his, palm to palm. He has a large hand. Our fingers curl, filling in the gaps in between. He gives a small sigh, his big shoulders relaxing.

"As I do you." I answer, pulling my hand in along with his. I kiss the back of his hand, rubbing my cheek against it. "Must you stay so far from me?"

"Must you choose him over me?" He replies.

I sigh.

"Forget it." He says.

"No, I'd like to explain." I insist. "Please… I need someone to talk to and you haven't been there."

"Fine." Ian says heavily. "Why? Why him?"

"Promise not to leave? At least, not tonight?"

"Why not tonight?" He questions, staring intently at me.

I pause. I nudge his neck, burrowing in his warmth. "Because I feel alone right now."

He remains silent.

---

There was something about Conner that immediately drew me in. No, it wasn't because of how he looked. It was something… the way he looked at me, even though Kathryn had just introduced us, I sensed it. He was polite and he shook my hand, but other than small talk, he never spoke that much. We had breakfast and Kathryn had insisted weeks before that I meet him.

I watched them carefully when we all pondered over what to order. The way they moved, the way Kathryn placed her hand on his arm and leaned against him as she laughed, and of course, the way he reciprocated these affectionate gestures.

During that three-second gaze at him, his eyes reflected a man who was struggling with something. Some unspeakable burden, not just with something external… but perhaps more. His eyes were like yours. Or mine. Maybe they were like Keiko's when she was very young. Conner's a kind man, maybe even perfect, as Kathryn refers to him often. Most of the time, he seems like it.

No, Ian. He's not a murderer. He doesn't rape women. He doesn't seduce mentally incapacitated people.

I don't know what it was, but whatever it is, it made me want to find more about him. So I did. His mother's Spanish, his father an American. He's royalty. Prince Charming, Kathryn said. He's also married to a senator's daughter.

So he _was_ normal. Until I saw his back.

By this time we—Kathryn, Blaine, Conner and me—were somewhat close. We were out by the pool and Conner was late. I had never seen him with his shirt off (though I wanted to), and when he went out, he was wearing his swimming trunks.

Okay. I ogled. Sorry, Derrick. He was still my boyfriend at the time.

"Sorry," He said, apologetic. He nodded to Blaine, smiled at me, and hugged Kathryn. She kissed his cheek. I'm wondering why they don't just get together. It's obvious they had some sort of history.

"Conner, didn't you hear? It's a nude pool." Blaine called out, obviously lamenting over the fact that he was the only homosexual there.

Kathryn shot him a look. Conner laughed and slung an arm around her waist. Her fingers began caressing his back. There was something odd about the way she did this. I realized she almost always did this to him.

When he turned to get a drink, I saw it. The scar tissue, the traces of what seemed to be lashes. The tattoos hid it a little, but I knew.

You wouldn't be surprised to hear me say that it was the moment, the official moment of the start of my infatuation with him.

I won't bore you with the details. It was a long process of getting Conner to really talk to me even when Kathryn wasn't around. It was worth it. He began to confide in me, and when he told me of his self injuring tendencies, it was another step forward. I liked him more.

He would be better with me, but I never tried to steal him from Kathryn for various reasons. One, this was a man who had to be handled carefully, two, Kathryn was my friend, and three, I was being cautious. She was my friend but I knew she wasn't a woman to be trifled with.

When Sebastian came back, I saw what it did to her and Conner. Their relationship wasn't as fucking unshakable after all. I told you the rest. Derrick proposed, she said yes, and Conner left to take care of his family.

This brother, defined the next and the most recent moment of my attachment to Conner.

The night before he left, he called me and asked me to come over.

"Hi." He was smiling at he opened the door. I leaned up and kissed his cheek (a right that took me months to attain). He took my coat for me and hung it on the coat rack. Ever the gentleman.

He began making us drinks. We talked. I don't remember about what exactly, but it didn't matter. He began to get drunk, and even though his way of speech was essentially the same, it showed in his movements. My heart began to pound and slow down. Nobody's ever had such an effect on me except for you.

"Conner?"

"Yeah?"

"You gonna miss me?"

Conner laughed and then leaned closer, his warm breath hit my face. His sluggish hands on me.

"'course I will."

He was so close all I had to do was move a little more. I could blame it on the alcohol later. He was putty in my hands, an adorable, gorgeous drunk. I kissed him, knowing he'd deny me. He'd tell me he wanted Kathryn and that he couldn't, or something equally clichéd as that.

Know what he did?

He handled me the way you did. Forceful, even frightening. It was exhilarating. I was so wet he could have merely done that for the entire time and I would've had an orgasm. His tongue in my mouth, a low growl coming from his throat… this was the man I'd seen that day in that three second gaze.

We didn't have sex, if that's what you're asking. He stopped before we could even take our clothes off.

"Elle," He said, his neck tilting back as he downed another shot. "I hate her. Ifuckinghate her. Know what I think of sometimes?"

"Tell me."

"Killing my wife." Conner answered, opening his eyes to look at me. Kathryn was right. He was perfect. "Only I can't. But I have dreams about it sometimes… slitting her throat, her getting into an accident." He placed his forehead in his hands. "I'm fucked now."

"Just leave her then." I stroked his cheek. "You know they invented divorce so you wouldn't have to go through the hassle of killing your wife."

He shook his head. "It's not the right thing to do. It's…it's not honorable, is it? That's what my dad taught me. Always do the right thing."

"And killing her is an honorable thing?"

Conner shrugged and laughed even though I wasn't kidding. "I know. Sometimes I don't make sense, ignore me. I'm screwed up."

I didn't answer. I merely contented myself with watching him for a while, contemplating on what I should do. I was still so horny I wanted to fuck him, but I held myself back. Conner glanced at me, frowning worriedly. He took the hand stroking his cheek and squeezed it.

"I'm sorry." He replied, rubbing his eyes. "I've scared you, haven't I? It's… it's not really… I mean, I just think about it… I-I don't know why—"

I shushed him, smiling. "Trust me when I say that I'm the last person you should be apologizing to about this."

He stared at my mouth. "Um… for kissing you, too. I-I didn't mean."

"I did." I interrupted. "Don't apologize for anything that happened. I wanted it to happen. I care for you. I want to help you."

_I want you._

Conner looked at me, trying to discern my words. Obviously deciding not to take me seriously, he smiled and said nothing.

---

"Big mistake." Ian says. "Not taking you seriously."

"He doesn't know me like you do, Ian."

"Did you kill them?"

I pout, letting go of his hand. I straddle him, unbuttoning his shirt. "Does it matter what I did?"

He caresses my hips, his tongue darting out to wet his mouth. My love, my darling other half.

"Enough about Conner." I whisper. "I missed you."

He reverses our positions so fast it hurt. His tongue goes down my neck. He lifts my nightgown up, exposing my ribs. He kisses each inch lovingly until he comes across a scar near my ribs.

"This is recent." He says, surprised. "Where'd this come from?"

Fuck.

"Nowhere. An accident." I try to cover the scar but he's too suspicious and he doesn't let it go.

"It's a fucking stab wound, Elle."

"It's not a stab wound. It's a piece of armoire, okay? Satisfied?" I huff. "Now stop with the questions and just kiss me already."

"Did I…?"

"No. You would've known if you did. It was an accident."

He moves until we're eye to eye. "Who the fuck did this to you?"

I stare back.

"Fucking asshole." He swears. "I'm going to kill Conner."

"He didn't mean it!"

"That's what everybody fucking says!" Ian yells furiously.

I grab his chin, pulling him towards me. "Ian, look at me. Do you think I'm the kind of person who lets anybody get away with abusing me?"

The fury in his eyes remains but he stops ranting.

"No." I answer for him slowly. "I am not that kind of person. It had to happen."

---

I wondered how they told him.

_"Mr. Valmont, there's been an accident."_

I opened my laptop and took a sip of coffee, glancing at the television that was on mute only to see the smoking remains of his wife's car. Poor dear.

No. Or:

_"I'm sorry sir. We tried everything we could…"_

You know, the same old clichés.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, ELLE!" Conner yelled. This was punctuated by more banging.

I calmly stored my laptop away and opened the door. His hand reached out and grabbed me, half dragging me into the room.

"What did you do??" He screamed, his entire face was red and his eyes were bloodshot. Did he cry for them? Huh. Imagine that.

"Let go."

He shook me harder. Fucking hell that's going to leave a bruise.

"Conner, let me go." I repeated, this time my voice was sharper. When he loosened his grip, I rubbed the sore spot.

"You fucking murderous bitch." He spat, his lip curling up in hatred.

"If that helps you, go ahead. We both know you didn't come here to punish me for doing what I did."

"What the hell do you know about me??" His entire body trembled with rage. The usually mild mannered Conner looked like he would take a swing at me, which was I suppose justifiable. It would even be a turn on, to be honest.

"You wanted it" I told him calmly. "You came here to thank me. So go on, say it. You needed me here. You're not angry at me. You're furious at yourself because you're not sad at all. You're even relieved, aren't you? All you want to do is thank me."

There it was. The shock on his face at the dawning of the truth. I was his mirror for the things he hid from everyone else.

"You don't know what you're talking about." His voice shook.

"Oh, but I think I'm the only one who fucking knows you at this point."

"You don't know shit!" He shoves me with what felt like inhuman strength and I crashed against the armoire, breaking the stupid flimsy thing. I moaned from the pain, obviously caught off guard. I would have expected this from my brother but never from Conner. There was a sharp pain near my ribs and looked down to see blood staining my shirt.

Conner quickly ran to me, his eyes wide with fear. "Oh, god… I'm sorry, Elle… Jesus…"

I examined the wound. It was shallow, but there was a piece of wood sticking out of my skin. I pulled it, wincing.

"Christ." Conner groaned, looking sick. "Elle… I'm sorry…"

I held out my hand and he took it uncertainly. "Say it." I told him, not allowing his gaze to waver. "Come on, you know you want to."

"I-I…"

"Say it."

Conner took his hand from me and pulled his knees to his chest, shutting his eyes tightly.

"I didn't feel a thing when they died." He admitted, still in that shaking voice. "It's not right… I… I should've…"

I watch him.

"You're right." He says timidly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "God, you're fucking right."

Ignoring the pain from the cut, I went to him. I held him as he wept.

---

"Stop." Ian orders harshly. "Stop talking about him."

"You asked." I smirk. He wipes it off by suddenly plunging his fingers inside me. I grasp his shoulders and yelp, trying hard not to let him see the pain in my eyes.

Eventually, my body gets acclimatized to the motion and soon I'm saying his name telling him not to stop he's always had the best fingers. It's the only thing we ever do because we have to know how to stop. I told him that years ago. I still tell ourselves that from time to time.

He tells me he loves me again just before I come. His body feels heavy on top of me, but I hold on to him, missing him already when he decides to leave again.

"Elle." He murmurs into my ear.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you're mine." Ian has the ability to make things sound like a plea and an order at the same time. "Please say it."

"I missed you." I tell him instead, stroking his hair as he rests against my breasts.

He looks up at me. A flash of disappointment and anger. Then it's gone. He's soft and loving again. "I have a surprise for you."

"Mmm…" I purr, enjoying the hard muscles on his back. "Where?"

"Not yet… soon." He kisses my breast. "I promise you that you'll enjoy it."

"I don't get a hint…?"

"Selena Wade."

I exhale. "Really?"

He nods, his eyes are lit up. He describes it in detail to me, and as he does, his hand starts touching me again. The more he talks, the hornier I become.

"Send me a video." I smile, licking my lips before I slip his pants off. "God, you amaze me."

"See how much I love you." Ian replies softly.

"I love you, too."

"Really?"

I kiss his belly button. "Always."

* * *

A/N: I divided it into 3-4 parts. It would have been too long if I jammed everything here.

* * *


	47. Sebastian Valmont

**A Series of Stories That Aren't Told By Our Fickleminded Heroine**

II.

_Lips are turning blue_

_A kiss that can't renew_

_I only dream of you_

_My beautiful_

_Tiptoe to your room_

_A starlight in the gloom_

_I only dream of you_

_And you never knew_

-"Sing for Absolution" by Muse

-

You say:

"Tell me a secret."

He stops writing in his journal, pausing. He taps his pen against the scrawl filled page. He takes a sip of brandy. You watch his lips press against the glass. His mouth his shiny from the drink. His blond curls look soft to touch and twirl and play with, but you can't. He's not yours to touch. He looks happy, his lips are turned up and his eyes are filled with contentment.

"I'm in love with Kathryn."

You laugh. "That's not a secret. You already told her that."

He leans forward, and you take in his finely structured face in closer detail. He smiles at you. Yes. You.

"I want to ask her to move in with me." He says. "After I get back, I will. I want to surprise her."

"And the other girlfriend?"

He rubs his eyes. "It's been over for a while… I meant what I said when I was really there for Kathryn now. It's just one last thing, and after that…" He leaves the sentence unfinished, but the excitement and happiness in his entire being is so infectious that you find yourself smiling for him, happy because he's not so miserable anymore and yet envious because someone's already gotten to him.

"Congratulations." You reply. "I take it that this story's finally going to have a happy ending?"

He chuckles. "Hey, I'm no Spanish duke but I can damn well hold my own. " He scratches his jaw. "All I know is, things are going to work themselves out. They have to. I've waited too long for this."

You don't reply.

The end.

---

"Good morning, Mr. Valmont." Kathryn's secretary breams at me, her cute face positively glowing. Her breasts look like they're about to pop out of her blouse, and with that tight vest, it's always a pleasure to talk to… what was her name again? Something perky and blonde… Heather? Nope. That's not it. Cece? Nope. Gigi! Yeah. That's it. Gigi.

"Good morning to you too, Gigi." I take another moment to look at those plump luscious breasts of hers before focusing on her face. Hey, just because I'm a committed man (yeah, yeah, if you're anything like Tuttle you can laugh it up) doesn't mean I can't appreciate the fine form of a woman. "I must say, you're looking very… robust today."

She giggles, tucking her hair behind her ear in a cutesy move that I hadn't seen since hitting on dumb cheerleaders in high school. "I just got new highlights! See?" She leans forward, those gigantic assets of hers pressed against the table. The male executive nearby nearly trips as he passes. I would've never pegged Kathryn to hire someone like this girl. One of those CEO horndogs who sleep with their secretary, sure. But Kathryn? Nah.

A mental image of Kathryn and Gigi rubbing against each other moaning flashes in my head and I smile at the thought.

"And I got this necklace from my boyfriend." She continues proudly, jutting out her already jutted out chest to show me the blessed golden trinket. One of her buttons pop open.

I grin, reaching out to touch the pendant that rested in her cleavage, freeing the lucky thing. My fingertips graze her skin but she only giggles again, this time in a softer tone.

"This is a very beautiful necklace." I trace the outline, pretending to admire the horrible Gucci knock off. Where'd the boyfriend get it? Tacky Town? "It does fit you well."

Gigi's eyes begin to gleam, obviously into our little flirtation game. She leans forward some more, touching my hand as she holds her pendant too. "I can think of other things that'll fit me well…" Her eyes go lower until they're on my crotch, which tightens and twitches. Oh, to be buried between the soft valley of those scrumptious breasts…

"Really? What might that be?"

She licks her lips. "I don't know… I'm open to all sorts of things."

I hear someone's throat clearing. Shit. I jump away from Gigi, dropping her necklace and I feel the back of my neck itch from sudden sweat. Kathryn stands in front of us looking at me with an eyebrow raised.

"Um… hi, baby?" I force a wide grin, yet my cheeks feel like they're on fire. "I was just…"

She nods and widens her eyes, waiting for me to think up of a lame excuse. She taps her foot. Her legs look really great in that skirt, how was it possible that she's even more beautiful now? She had always been hot in high school, but now? Tsktsk. This was too much.

Nah. Maybe it wasn't. It was Kathryn after all.

Gigi suddenly types on her computer, obviously wishing to disappear. I think she even slouches a little.

"We were just talking." I finish, giving her an embarrassed smile.

"You're such a flirt." Kathryn rolls her eyes before she starts chuckling. "Honestly. Do you ever let your head do any actual thinking or does your dick do it all?"

I follow her inside her office, shutting the doors behind me.

"Kathryn," I kiss her mouth, enjoying her small hands eventually playing with her hair and the little sigh she gives when I pull her to me. "How many times do I have to say it? I'm fucking nuts about you, okay? Your secretary may have the best…"

Her green eyes begin to narrow.

"…second best set of breasts in the world, but it's still you I want."

Her glare disappears and she tiptoes on her heels to kiss me again. "Yeah, you better." She grumbles. "Otherwise I'm dumping your ass."

"I'll be sure to remember that." I reply stroking her face. "So, you ready to go?"

"Yeah, just let me get my bag." She turns to leave and then I get a view of her tight ass and her long brown hair that seems a little wavy today, along with her little waist and the sexy muscles that flexed in her calves as she walked. And no, it's not just me being horny. Please. You have to give me a little credit. It just so happens that I also love the wit and the brains that are inside that delectable little body of hers. Kathryn gives a surprised curse as I wrap my arms around her and crush her to me, her back against my chest and her hands on my arms to steady her balance.

"Sebastian, stop that!" She commands, sounding annoyed.

I smell her hair and begin kissing her neck. "Okay, okay." I hold my arms up in a gesture of surrender before she hits me, which knowing her, she probably will.

"You're such a pussy." Kathryn comments later on as we walk out of her office (she shoots Gigi a death glare). "It's disgusting. How can I even live with this? If I find a bouquet of roses waiting for me in the car, I'm seriously leaving you to go find the real Sebastian."

"Oh, sorry." I squeeze her breast as we step into the elevator. She stiffens and quickly checks if anybody else noticed. They didn't. Or probably pretending that they didn't. I didn't really care. "Would that be something more like the 'real Sebastian' would do?"

"Stop it." She warns, elbowing me in the gut. I behave for a few seconds and annoyingly enough, the elevator gets filled with more and more people until Kathryn manages to make her way to the end of the elevator (she doesn't like being closely pressed against other people and will do anything to get away from them) with her back pressed against the wall and I'm on the other side wishing I could tell all these stupid fucks to get the fuck out my fucking girlfriend might start hyperventilating and pass out, then I'm going to beat the shit out of them for making her do that to begin with.

My mood suddenly darkens and her gaze catches mine.

"You okay?" I mouth, glaring at the other people. What floor are they going to? Hell? Geez!

She smiles at me and nods.

"I love you." I tell her, again mouthing the words. Her smile falters for a moment but it returns soon, only this time she sighs and smirks and chuckles to herself, as if to say: 'What on earth do I do with this pathetic loser now'?

I don't know, marry him?

Shit. What the fuck? No. This time, I laugh to myself just as how Kathryn had chuckled quietly earlier. Marry him? What kind of crazy pills have I secretly been taking? Of course I'm not going to marry her, I mean, it's Kathryn for crying out loud. I bet you a million dollars that the moment she even sees me looking at a diamond ring, she's going to run like she's on the fucking Olympics. Oh, from Saxton it was fine. She even said yes (look how that turned out) And maybe if Conner actually got his brooding head out of his emo ass and asked her to marry him, she would say yes. But me? Nah. She'd make some lame excuse and proceed to bolt like hell. Probably fuck a relative of mine or two. I'm still considering the thought that Derrick Saxton could be related to me. She seems to like the men in my bloodline.

"What were you laughing about there?" Kathryn asks as soon as we finally get off the damn elevator.

"A joke I thought of."

"About what?"

"What you'd look like if I asked you to marry me."

She stops walking. Her mouth opens and closes. She already looks like she's about to pass out, like we were back in the elevator and she somehow got stuck in the middle.

"What? I-this-not-C-" She stutters, quickly catching herself. "Don't be stupid-you can't-we're not-this—"

I open the car door for her, waiting her to get inside. She doesn't move. Is it my imagination or are her eyes actually darting to the other side? Is she suddenly going to grow wings, jump up, and fly?

"See?" I reply softly, feeling strangely disappointed. "That was the funny part."

---

Later that night.

With the blankets covering her body, Kathryn's facing me and she's nodding at all the right moments of our conversation only her eyes have begun to get glassy.

"Kathryn?" I say sharply. She snaps back into attention and guilt crosses her face before she blinks it away and makes it seem like she was with me the whole time.

"What? I was listening."

"What was I talking about, then?" I challenge.

"Work. Someone in your staff's been jerking off to a photo of the president?"

"That was what I said ten fucking minutes ago." I sit up, rubbing my suddenly aching forehead. "What the fuck is with you?"

"I'm sorry!" She defends herself, looking at the ceiling before looking at me. "I'm sorry, okay? Please, let's not argue."

Her phone rings. She scrambles to answer it but I grab it before she can, knocking a few things off the side table. One particular thing grabs my attention. Something small, circular and gold strung into a gold necklace. The Valmont crest. Fucking Conner. I glance at the caller ID. It simply said Fox. Was it Elle? It must be Elle.

"Give it to me!" She demands, slapping my arm.

"Hello?" I answer, waiting (hoping) that it was Elle.

"Sebastian, is it?" Comes a deep voice. Definitely not Elle. My spine tingles. Why was there something familiar about that voice? "May I please speak with Kathryn?"

"Who is this?"

"Aaron Fox, Elle's brother. We've already met."

"It's eleven in the evening. Why are you calling her at this hour?"

Kathryn shoves me angrily, her mouth pressed tightly. "Give me the fucking phone."

This Aaron guy doesn't reply.

"Answer me." My temper's slowly growing thin.

"We have an arrangement." He finally answers, his tone cold and smug. "Now can I talk to her?"

"No, you fucking can't. Stay the fuck away from her." I close the phone and toss it over my shoulder, much to Kathryn's annoyance. She jumps off the bed and retrieves it, her green eyes crackling with anger.

"What the hell is your problem?" She yells, throwing one of my socks at me. "I was waiting for that call!"

"Yeah?" I pick up Conner's ring, brandishing it inches from her face. "I don't give a fuck about your fucking call. What the fuck is this?"

"It's a ring." She states this with condescension, treating me like an imbecile.

I grab her arm. "Tell me the truth, Kathryn. Have you been seeing him again?"

"If I have?" She shoots back defiantly, snatching the ring from me. She crosses the room, opens her jewelry box, and places it there. "What's it to you?"

"What's it to me? What the fuck is it to me??" I shout, throwing a pillow against the dresser. Some of her things fall and break. "I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU! THAT'S WHAT IT IS TO ME!"

She's shaking now. From anger? I didn't know. "I need to go for a walk." She says, taking her clothes.

"There it is, the infamous Kathryn move. Run away."

"The infamous Kathryn move?" She retorts, glaring at me. "Don't give me all the credit, Valmont. Weren't you the one who patented that move in the first place? All the rights belong to you."

Kathryn gets dressed pretty quickly, bringing her phone along with her as she leaves. I yell to no one in particular about everything. Stupid bitch. Stupid fucking emo Conner that fucking old assface for even coming back. No. That's wrong. Stupid fucking bastard for fucking her in the first place.

Stupid me for yelling. Why is it that we never say the things we want to say and end up saying things we don't want to?

Oh, by the way, I'm breaking up with Selena and I'm going to entrust her with her Uncle Ben in Paris, only nobody's really supposed to know about it because I still can't find that guy who's been fucking with her and I'm scared that he'll get to her… but you know where we're staying. Just you. I told you because I might be gone for a few weeks and I don't want you to think that I've disappeared again. I'm just helping with the treatments. That's all. I promise. Then I'm going to go back here and date you exclusively. I'm not telling you that I'm breaking up with her because I want to surprise you and watch you smile that huge smile of yours when I get back. So how about it, Kathryn? What do you think?

What would she think? I probably wouldn't hear her thoughts. All I'd hear are the sounds of her heels clacking as she runs away. I wander around her condo, making myself a drink. I watch stupid TV. I read her stupid books. I even go through an old issue of Vogue.

Still no Kathryn.

It takes her two hours to return. I was already beginning to enjoy one of those stupid sitcoms when I hear the door open and close. She stands there looking tired and vulnerable, watching me. Her cell phone's clutched in her hand.

"You're still here." She says, surprised.

"Of course I'm still here." I reply. "Where else would I be?"

She hangs her coat and places her keys on the counter.

"It fucking hurts to know you're still seeing him." I admit, my eyes on the TV and yet my ears are listening to her move around her kitchen.

"Does it?" Replies her voice, still small and hesitant.

"Yes. Do you always carry his ring around?"

She doesn't reply.

"Kathryn, do you?"

She sits on the sofa and takes the remote from my hand, turning off the TV. She props her legs up and takes my arm, kissing it before she plays with my hair. It's her thing, I've noticed. She likes doing that to me.

"I'm not seeing him again." She says instead, thus confirming the fact that she had indeed always carried that stupid thing around. She stares at me, still playing with my hair. "Okay? I'm not."

"You're lying. You just…" I take her hand because the sensation of her fingers against my scalp was distracting me.

"Sebastian…" Kathryn bumps her forehead against mine, her breath is sweet and her lips soft. "I'm doing the best I can. Please trust that."

"What's the deal with that Aaron guy?"

"Nothing." She answers, moving my arm so she can cuddle against me. Her feet are cold and I massage them, warming them as best as I can. "Just Elle's brother."

"Calling you this late? Let me guess," I can't help sounding bitter even though she's cuddling against me. "another one of your fuck buddies?"

I should not have said that. Her body's suddenly like a rock, and when she looks at me she makes me feel like the biggest shit alive even though she hasn't said anything.

"I'm going to bed." She announces. "Bye."

"No, wait. I'm sorry, okay? I was jealous. I was being jealous and stupid."

She relents. Soon, she's asleep in my arms and despite the stupid fight that we had, this is still one of the best nights I've had with her. I move her bangs away from her eyes, kissing her head.

"I'm gonna fix things." I tell her. "I promise."

It was the least I could do, after all. She's been perfect during the whole thing. The new Kathryn. I smile to myself, watching her seemingly innocent expression beatified by slumber.

I'm so goddamn lucky.

* * *

A/N: Up next? Conner. Then Ian. I'm saving Ian for last because I have something puhretty nice planned for that scary, hot man. Then possibly the end. No, I'm kidding. Probably 3 or so chapters and then the end. Then Part 3. No. I was kidding again. Geez. Yeah, I know. It sucks, but I gotta end this already. It's sucking out my creative energy and I'm usually left with nothing to write actual non CI stories with, which might explain why they sorta maybe suck. Oh, and the question I posed about Seb's car crashing into a pole in Paris question will be answered. Just not here and not yet. 

So, reader. If you're still with me, thank you a million times over.

Anyway, to get the suckiness of things and the (sad?) impending end of this loooong story out of your head:

III. Conner Valmont

_ The door of the store opens and then she steps out. My hands suddenly feel very warm._

_It was Kathryn._

_The way her eyes narrowed really got through me, they were a dark jade, growing darker by the second. The way she looked at me though, the way her mouth pouted and quivered…_

_"Kathryn, what a nice surprise." Elle says demurely. Did she plan this meeting? Well, why wouldn't she? There was after all a side to her that was very much capable of this. Elle fucking Fox, a heartless conniving bitch._

_"Yes." Kathryn replies, her tone equally light. Then she looks at me, hurt and disapproving. Was this the first time she had seen Elle and me together? "Nice surprise indeed."_


	48. Conner Valmont

III.

_I know it seems silly. But I would be glad if it really happened. Losing oneself in another's arms is a fine way to lose oneself._

-An excerpt from "Ocean Sea" by Alessandro Baricco

-

You stare.

You just look at him lying on the blue and white bed the dark blue contrasts against his white skin. His eyes are open, and he stares far off as he breathes, resting.

"More than anything else in the world," You begin. "What do you want the most?"

--

There's a persistent person outside my hotel room knocking as though their life depended on it. Who the hell could it be at this hour?

I head for the door and open it, and then I just stare.

Standing in front of me was Kathryn. Again. How does she always know where to find me? How does she know when I'm in New York?

It doesn't matter, does it?

Because I just gape and gape and gape she's so goddamn beautiful with her green eyes piercing me, practically tormenting me and her hands are stuffed into the pockets of her coat and she's still shivering even though she's indoors.

"He left an hour ago." She says. "He's gone now."

"Um… okay."

She grabs my shoulders and she's kissing me so hard I can't formulate a single coherent thought except that I'm kissing her and that's the only thing that exists and yet at the same time this intensity from her surprised me because she's grasping tightly like she's drowning and then I wonder (all this while pulling her inside, locking the door, and kissing her back) what's wrong, Kate? Please tell me what's wrong I want to fix things for you.

So I start. I (regretfully) pull away, ignoring the screaming NO in my head the echoes of the other things that are stopping me from fighting for her. Yes. That thing I share only with Elle.

By this time we were on the sofa and she's on my lap trying to take my shirt off because she's already shed most of her clothes and she's just there in her underwear and she's grinding against me so hard fucking hell. I want to touch her because she looks so fucking perfect in her under garments, her chest heaving her eyes smoldering and sad and scared. Scared. Scared. That's what stops me from fucking her brains out. Her hair's disheveled from when I ran my hands through it again and again she has the softest hair, a little thinner than Elle's.

"What's wrong?" I ask, finally able to get a word in.

She shakes her head and she unbuttons my shirt and then she's touching me stroking me that hand of hers aggressive and smooth.

"Don't you want to?" She asks, looking at me. "Don't you? I do. I want you to fuck me."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." She looks at the bulge straining from my pants. "It's easy." She pulls down my pants and my boxers and then she doesn't waste any time she yanks down her panties and then sinks herself against me and my eyes roll back and we both sigh at the familiar feeling but then I realize that I was the only one who had sighed and that there's something wrong because she's clenching her jaw her breathing is hitched and then when she opens her eyes they're filled with discomfort.

I try to pull out of her but she cries out in pain. Too dry. Oh, fuck. She hadn't been ready after all.

"Hurts." She whimpers and I tell her I'm sorry over and over and I'm kissing her neck, her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes and her chest all over anywhere I can reach I kiss I soothe her tell me what's wrong, Kate.

But she doesn't talk she only hugs me, kissing me back every so often until I feel her wetness start and then she's sighing along with me and rocking against me with her arms around my neck so tightly.

So of course I forget screw being the gentleman because it's Kathryn. Of course it's Kathryn so I stop thinking for the next few blessed minutes that I'm inside her and for a while we just have sex until I carry her to the bed and I loom over her, smiling, brushing her hair from her sad eyes and we're just staring at each other.

When I enter her again, that nagging feeling in my heart begins to start again and something's wrong with us. It's the same and yet at the same time it isn't anymore, like being in a dream and then waking up, trying to grab on to the threads of that dream-life that are out of my reach as the details fade from my memory.

It's clear she feels the same way, because her eyes are getting sadder by the minute. Then her voice is so quiet and timid like she's not Kathryn at all but someone else. Like she's not my Kathryn at all but someone else's.

"Something happened before Sebastian left." She says, and I pull out of her and we just sit there naked.

"What?"

"It's like he knows…." She fidgets with the bed sheets. "What I've been doing… what I've done…"

"What do you mean?"

"Before he left, he just… I've been…" Her voice trails off, and she sighs. "I've been trying to detach myself from him, and he knew it. Earlier, he just visited me on his way to the airport, and he was standing there with this look on his face…"

"It's okay." I caress her calf, trying to get her to continue.

"It's like, he just…" Her eyes are warmer now. "He told me to please stop punishing him already. And the way he said it, goddamn it!" She pulls her knees up to her chin and she rests her forehead against her knees and she doesn't talk to for a while.

"Kathryn, it's okay… really."

"I'm sorry." Her voice is muffled. "We wasted too much time dancing around this thing."

"It's never going to happen." I finish her thought, although my reasons were far different than hers.

She looks up, her gaze wistful. "I wanted to choose you."

"Same here." I answer, stroking her hair. "Want me to get your clothes for you?"

She laughs and her eyes are already less sad and they light up but then when I leave the bed she stops me by taking my arm.

"Conner," She says. "tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." I smile. "I'm fine."

"Conner." Kathryn says again, squeezing my arm. "You've forgotten that you're talking to me. Tell me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Just because." This time it's my turn to fidget and I can't even look at her anymore.

"You can tell me you're bisexual and that you've had sex with both Elle and Ian while Blaine watched and I wouldn't see you differently." Kathryn comments. "You know that."

"Not this time, Kathryn."

"Why?" She realizes how serious this is and she stops smiling. She takes my chin, forcing me to look at her. "What is it?"

I swallow thickly. "I watched Elle cut the brake lines of my wife's car."

Her eyes cloud over and she curses. "I knew she did it, that psycho bitch. I know we've ended things but why on earth are you even with her?"

As I look at her I realize I don't ever want her to leave this room and my bed and that I want her so much but I don't want her seeing me like I was some kind of monster because then I don't know how I'd be. "Promise me you won't look at me differently." I plead, taking her arm.

She looks perplexed at my desperation, and she nods and frowns and she kisses me. "It wasn't your fault, she would've found another way to kill them, okay? Even if you had stopped her, she would've just—"

"She cut the wrong wires." I interrupt and then I watch as the color drains from her face as she processes this.

"What? You… no…" She gasps. "Conner…"

"So now you know. I think she knows it, too. She just allows me to blame her because she thinks it'll be easier on me for now."

She remains silent. Unmoving. I've pushed her away and I feel

Raw.

"You'd be better off with him." I tell her.

She shakes her head. "No, it's not like that. I'm not better off with anybody. Not you, or him, or even Derrick. If it had turned out to be you, we would've been happy. Undoubtedly, stupidly, happy."

"You're not listening—"

She silences me. Easily.

"You're not a bad man, Conner."

"How can you say—"

Her hand rests on my thigh. Eyes so warm and soft. Breathtaking.

"You heard me." Kathryn answers. "I've seen bad men. I've fucked them, talked to them; I've heard their thoughts and sentiments. I know a bad man when I see one, and trust me, you're not bad."

"I killed them."

"It's a gray world, Conner."

Her hand. Fire in the middle of winter. Her eyes. The north star. I'm filled with so much love for her that it's a wonder Elle doesn't notice it. Or maybe she does notice it the same way I notice how she looks at her brother. We just don't talk about it. We try to leave the forbidden things behind when we're together.

"You'll still…" She hesitates.

"I'll be here for as long as you want me to." I smile.

She blinks, momentarily looking troubled.

"What is it?" I squeeze her hand.

"You told me something like that once."

"Did I?"

"I dreamed it."

"And?"

She doesn't answer. She just turns to me, staring, pleading. Her hands find my hair, playing with them. Soft. Intimate.

"Leave her." She says. "They're dangerous people."

"Who is?"

"The siblings. They're different from us. Actually," Kathryn says. "They're different from people in a sense that they're not even human, Conner. Please. You don't understand, you can't… not her, okay? Just not her. Please."

"What's wrong, Kate?"

"Trust me." She kisses my forehead before wrapping her arms around my neck. "Please, just trust me. Stay away from her."

My heart. Heavy. Light. In between.

"Please." Again, that whisper in my ear. "You can't do this to me. I still need you, maybe not in that way, but something far deeper than that. I need you. You're my friend. You understand everything there is to understand."

You're my friend. Like she's still a little girl.

"Promise me." Kathryn pleads. "End things with her."

I stroke her hair, the other arm holding her securely. I tell her I promise because that's what she needs to hear. I promise, Kate. I'll end it. She stays there and I stay there until my erratic heartbeat goes down and

She stares at me in the eye like she knows I'm lying to her.

"If I lose you, a part of me will get lost, too. And Sebastian's going to be there because he loves me, and sometimes I think I love him, too. But I'll never say it. He'll do everything he can to make me better, because that's the kind of man he is and I'm lucky to have him for it. I'll get better, but in those days that I'm not, I'll suffer. We both will."

"Kathryn,"

"You have a piece of me that he'll never have. Remember that. Stay away from her."

She slides off the bed and I get off it, too. She gathers her clothes. Silence. Long and painful.

"Take care, Conner." She tells me just before she leaves, and she doesn't wait for me to say it back. I can only touch her shoulder, and then that's gone as well. I can still feel the fabric on my fingertips, like holding on to a ghost. She's growing smaller and smaller as she walks down the hallway and I stand there and say the only thing I can say.

"Always." I half yell and she stops walking and turns around. She smiles.

Sadly.

She knows that I won't be spending the night alone.  
---

Elle opens the door.

"Elle, I have to tell you—"

"Come in." She interrupts, watching me. "It's cold outside."

So I do. She helps me take my coat off and she kisses my cheek. Tonight her eyes are so gray they're almost white. I realize that sounds eerie, but on her, you must understand, on that face, it was ethereal.

"I did it." I say. "Not you. I was the one—"

Again, the interruption.

"I know." Elle answers. "Shall I fix us drinks?"

She heads to the bar, tiny feet clad in slippers. Hair soft. Woman-monster-goddess-child. I follow her.

"How long have you known?"

She turns around.

"Ever since I cut the wrong wires."

Hit her. Rape her. Fuck her. Kiss her. Hug her. Cry. Scream. Laugh.

She hands me a drink. I take it with numb hands. She drinks hers, watching me shrewdly.

"Why?"

Her lips are shiny from scotch. "I wanted to liberate you. I gave you the chance, and if you needed to blame me for it, then it's fine. One's capability to do such things is usually hard to accept."

"I-I'm not a bad man." Kathryn's words out of my mouth like a shield.

She smiles. Puts her drink down.

"I don't want you turning into a serial killer. It was a one time thing."

"Are you even listening to yourself?" I slam the glass on the table. As usual, she's unshakable. "I killed them!"

She doesn't talk for a while. There's a spot of scotch on her arm from when the contents of my drink were spilled.

"Elle, I'm sor—"

"I killed my father and my uncle." She finally says softly. "Two people. Like you. They were holding me back. Like you. I had to liberate myself. Like you. They kept me from someone I loved, Conner. Like you. So many things have happened in my fucking life, things that would put what you did to shame. Hate me or love me, I don't care. Admit it. I've freed you. That's all I wanted to do."

I stay quiet.

"Although I'd really prefer it if you loved me. I don't get that enough." She frowns slightly. "At least, not morally."

"I don't know if I can." I tell her. "You're a monster."

I realize, of course, the hypocrisy of my words. But I can't help it.

Her eyes widen.

Slowly, beautifully,

They fill with tears.

Her mouth quivers. Her drink falls to the floor and the glass shatters.

This is all too real to be faked. Even for her.

Especially the way she's looking at me. Like everything could hurt her.

Blood trails down her leg, apparently hit by little pieces of broken glass.

"Leave." She says. Tears trailing down her cheeks. "If you want to, leave. I won't hold anything against you. I can hear it from my brother or anybody else, but from you, I can't stand it. Go."

Kathryn's voice pleading in my head. Please stay away from her. She's dangerous. They both are. This is my chance to leave.

Elle walks past me with such dignity and grace, even though she's crying and bleeding. I don't hear her ever sniffle, like her teary eyes have been detached from the rest of her.

Acting or not. She's not. I've seen her act.

This is the most beautiful I've ever seen her.

I find her in her bedroom, seated on a chair, applying an antiseptic to the small cuts.

"I've been told that you're dangerous, you and your brother."

"Kathryn, I bet." She says dryly. Her eyes are still red and watery.

"It doesn't matter who."

She looks up at me. "She's right. But I would never hurt you. I swear it. I've wanted you for so long, you know. That's why what you said hurt me."

I pause. "Kathryn came to my hotel earlier."

Dab. Dab. Her toes curl. She's listening. "And?"

"I don't know." I reply. I scoop her in my arms and she reacts for a moment before pressing her cheek against my shoulder. Then she hugs me tightly, scared little girl.

"I won't let anything happen to you, I promise it." She whispers. "Nor is it my intention to play with your feelings. I don't want to own you ,either. I've owned lots of men in my life already. It's nothing special if you think about it. All they ever do is follow you around."

'What do you want, then?"

"You. Everything. The way it feels when I'm around you. The fact that I feel."

Kathryn's pleading. Still pleading.

For all the love I felt for her, she'll understand such things.

"Then that's what you'll have." I say.

I lower her on the bed. She waits, watching me, like always. I shed my clothes. I shed everything that I am until I'm naked and she sees the version of me that nobody else has.

"Conner," Elle tells me. "thank you for staying."

"What happened to the one you wanted before? The one you said you killed your dad and uncle for?"

She hesitates. "What usually happens when we don't get the people we want the way we want them. We find someone else."

I reply by kissing her. I kiss her until Kathryn's warnings are dead in my head.

I tread into new territories. All things forbidden will soon be forgotten, or if not forgotten, then merely memories to be remembered and not resurrected.

The world resumes.

* * *

Dear reader(s), 

If you've noticed, the preview of this chapter in the previous chapter isn't here. That's because I've deleted that scene and hopefully it'll be included in the deleted scenes when this story is finished.

Sorry for the delay. I was off writing (revising) a short story and generally daydreaming about new characters for my other non CI stories (for yes, I do have them) I already have one but I took a break from writing that to try to update.

I hope you enjoyed this. No idea when the next one will be. Today, tomorrow, in a week, in a month? I don't know. I'm not even going to make an estimate. I've learned that it's stupid making promises for things that are in reality beyond my control.

Anyway, that's it. Same rule. Click. Type. Submit.

Thanks!


	49. Ian Fox

IV

_I hope my love  
can blind you  
I hope my arms  
can bind you  
So you'll never have to see  
What we've grown to be_

-"Pills" by The Perishers

…because we're misunderstood. 

That's what people generally say. You look at the pale, strange kid seated alone because he doesn't speak or because his skin's too white, his eyes are too scary, or he just has that thing that screams of the unknown. He's just misunderstood. Criminals, psychopaths, killers who drug their victims and then inject acid into their heads so he could watch them slowly die. Nymphomaniacs. Sociopaths, of course.

Beautiful little girls who creep into their father's room in the middle of the night to stab him, younger brothers who cry while helping her fabricate stories so she wouldn't get caught. Tragically perfect women shooting themselves in the mouth.

All fucking misunderstood.

I leave for Paris in a few hours, just a little behind Sebastian and Selena. All I'm doing right now is watching her. Watching over her like some demented obsessed angel. Or creature. It doesn't seem fitting to refer to me as an angel. Whichever.

All the cameras in Elle's house have taken from her ability to hide from me. Every twitch, every facial expression, every laugh, sigh, word that escapes her, I know of. Because I love her and I want to take everything of her.

I'm watching her because I never, ever want to be around people on the night before I do something awful. Especially Elle, I never want to be around her when I'm about to do the thing I'd promised her.

"Otouto." Comes a voice, a single line frying my brain into millions of Elle induced happy pieces. I tear myself away from the screen, from the sight of her with her head scrunched up over the millions of documents she'd been spending hours on, and glance at the figure entering my room.

A girl. Teenage Elle, just a little smaller than she is now as an adult. She walks into my room and smiles up at me. Her blouse is spattered with Keiko's blood, around her neck she wore our sister's necklace.

"Watcha watching, Ian?" She inquires, her voice singsong. She wipes her hands on her blouse. "Why won't it come off?" She asks me, puzzled. "I always wash it, I tried and tried but it won't come off and I'm scared and annoyed it won't stop it smells kinda metallic like her…"

Teenage Elle with the brain of a seven year old.

It was Elle in those few seconds I held on to her after Keiko died, when she didn't fix herself a salad and when she allowed herself to be soothed.

I stand up. Onscreen Elle rubs her eyes, those gorgeous, manic, soft eyes. Teenage Elle is a lot shorter than me, and it looks like I'm her big brother at the moment. I tower over her small figure, my shadow swallowing hers.

"Come here." I pull her onto my lap and she giggles and snuggles against my chest, sighing contentedly as she starts humming the song our mother used to sing to us. I don't know how she could remember it, since she was so young when our mother left, but then again, that was Elle. Something in her brain was wired differently.

"Little wittle brother," She breathes, stroking my hair. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"I think you're breathtaking." I hold her in my arms and she giggles some more like I'm tickling her.

"I think you're lying." She pinches me. Hard. Catching me off guard, and I yelp, instinctively pushing her off. She laughs in utter delight at my pain, and then her face clouds over and she pouts, rubbing the sore spot where she'd hurt me and kissing it. Her lip-gloss leaves a shiny kiss mark on my skin.

"Heal the booboo like Daddy said." She croons, her eyes changing colors. Gray. Blue. Gray. Blue. "You know, he told me I had a booboo here once and Daddy helped heal it?" Her finger rests on top of her right nipple and her lower lip juts out. "Then Daddy asked me, said 'Elle, take your unicorn and rainbows shirt off for Daddy so he can make it all better.' And I said 'It's cold, Daddy.' And he carried me like I was so light, Ian!" She carries on, excited. Bouncing in front of me. 'Daddy carries me and says I'm beautiful, that I'm going to be more beautiful when I grow up!"

I cringe. I try to look away. I try not to let her see the pain written all over my face, but she does anyway. Then she laughs again, like I was the funniest joke alive.

"Do not do that." I warn.

"But it's fun…" she says petulantly. "It's fun watching you hear stories about Daddy and me."

"It's not fucking fun hearing you lie about being molested." I chide her, and her face falls. "You know it's not true. Our father was useless, but he was kind."

"Do you hate me?" She asks in a small voice. Then she watches Onscreen Elle for a while. "Do you want me to be like her? But it's no fun anymore… No fun for big Elle."

"No, I don't hate you." I feel her immediately glue herself to me again, all soft warmth and innocence.

The doorbell rings. Onscreen. Teenage Elle repositions herself on my lap and she leans against me sometimes she nibbles on my finger. This means that she wants popcorn but I'm too lazy to go out and get her some so she just nibbles on me.

Onscreen Elle looks up. Then she opens the door, and Teenage Elle leans forward.

"Oooohhh he's so handsome." She squeals. "What's his name?"

Onscreen Elle answers that by saying his name. "Conner." She says, surprised. The she almost turns shy, her eyes lower and I hate him so much for tapping into that side of her. "Did we… what are you doing here?"

"Is he my boyfriend?" Teenage Elle smiles.

"Hi." The man called Conner says. Then he kisses her cheek. "I um… I did something for you today."

"Oh?" Onscreen Elle steps back, surprised.

"I um… I went to see your mother. You… you've spoken about her so much that I thought I'd—"

Elle's mouth tightens. So does my gut.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Her voice like cold steel. Oh, buddy boy. You have no idea, do you?

"Elle, listen…"

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Elle asks again. Her right hand clenches.

I hope she kills him. She's capable, isn't she?

He reaches for something inside his jacket. Pulls out a ragged doll with one of the button eyes missing.

"She said this was your favorite." He explains. Teenage Elle's eyes are starry. She stops nibbling on my thumb. "She said to give this… you don't sleep well without it…"

"Princess Jane." Teenage Elle whispers, smiling.

Onscreen Elle echoes Teenage Elle. "Mine." She says afterwards, staring at the doll. "Mine." She whispers again, her voice happy and childlike.

"Look, I'm… I'm sorry about going behind your back, okay? I didn't… Elle, just please listen." Conner looks at her.

"Give it." She holds out her hand, and he hands her the fucking doll. That stupid tattered bitch.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't know you'd react like this…" He tries again, but Elle shushes him. She strokes the doll's cheeks with her thumb. Then the stringy hair. Fixes the clothes. She brings the disgusting thing closer to her small face and inhales, closing her eyes.

Then she opens her eyes. Steps into his arms. Willingly. Surrendering herself to him. And—

My heart stops.

"Remember when I said I've owned lots of men?" She says. He nods. She clutches the doll in one hand, holds on to him with another. "They've done so many things for me. Things you wouldn't believe."

Conner smiles. Oh, buddy, buddy boy. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.

"But I like you the most." Onscreen Elle smiles. I can almost see the blood from her mouth as she chewed my heart into fleshy bits. "I like you so much."

Something's going to fucking give.

I turn the television off. Teenage Elle just watches me.

"Bigger Elle loves him." She says, surprised. "Loves him not like how she loved Derrick or Henry or Tim or…" she continues naming Elle's exes but her voice to me seems far away.

"She loves me." I grab her neck, pinning her against the bed. I tear her blouse open. "He's just her toy, the flavor of the fucking month."

Teenage Elle pouts. She kisses the area between my thumb and index finger. Stormy blue stare.

"_I_ love you." She explains. "Bigger Elle doesn't. Not anymore."

"Liar." I tighten my grip until her face turns red. 

"Your fingers aren't enough anymore." This beautiful monster continues. "You honestly think she wouldn't tire of the almost sex?"

"You want me to fuck your brains out, is that it?" I pin her down so hard her head will leave a deep impression on the mattress. "I can, you know! You just won't let me!"

"My love." Teenage Elle whispers. "We can't. Bigger Elle knows that, and I do as well. We never could. It's not enough anymore. She wants more. She needs more."

"I don't believe you."

"Turn it back on. We can watch Bigger Elle together."

"Fuck you, Elle."

Teenage Elle smiles. Then laughs in delight the way she did when I found her one afternoon with her hands deep into the cat (my present for her when she turned eighteen and had prior to her birthday complained that she didn't have anybody to come home to because I was always out) called Mr. Bittle Fox (she was the one who'd given it that ridiculous name), when she'd sliced open its stomach because she said she was curious as to what it looked like inside.

"Fuck me? You can't." She murmurs. "But he can."

I hit her. Crack. Her nose breaks, blood everywhere. She groans, her eyes shut. My hand hurts like fuck.

Her eyes open. Gray eyes, smiling.

"That's it?"

I hit her again. Her lip splits. She spits out blood. Her eye gets swollen and I continue hitting her until I feel like my hands are about to fall off. My bed is full of her blood. She laughs all throughout like I'm tickling her.

"More." Whispers Teenage Elle. "Hurt me more."

But I stop. Her face is all cracked and broken. She might be missing a few teeth.

"I do everything for you." I tell her. "Why won't you do the same for me?"

Small hands take my face. Her breath smells slightly metallic from the blood.

"Your definition of everything is fucked up, Ian."

Then she kisses me and I'm lapping up her blood it's sweet and delicious and I hold her for so long. She murmurs to me, stroking my hair, holding me back.

"I'll die." I confess. Her hand stops caressing my back. I lift my head to look at her battered face. "If we end."

"Please don't." She replies.

"If you leave me, I'll die. It's on you, Elle. Remember that. Everything's on you."

"I'll remember." My sister promises. "Now go to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you."

"Will you…" I kiss her chest. "Will you be there when it happens?"

Teenage Elle grins. "Of course I'll be there."

"Always." I whisper, feeling a pang of inexplicable sadness. "Always and always."

---

It happens like this.

I am nothing now. A moving mass of black clothing and limbs, slipping past the security like a ghost.

Click.

The hotel room opens easily and I pocket the card key. Thank you, Kathryn. I mentally send her a thank you and a smile. I understand more and more why Elle's so taken by her. She's been so helpful.

"Sebastian?" Comes her voice. Oh, you sweet, darling thing.

I unsheathe the knife, stroking the blade. I press it against my cheek. Gray and cold. Like Elle's eyes.

"The security cameras, Ian." She warns, suddenly appearing on the table. "They have them outside. You're sure you weren't seen?"

"Thus the mask, darling Elle." I tap my cheek, covered by the mask.

She smiles widely. Eyes so full of love.

"I love you for doing this." She says. "Really, truly do. Set up the video for Bigger Elle to see, too. Maybe she'll choose you instead."

"She's already chosen me."

Teenage Elle just laughs. Selena Wade finally spots me.

And her eyes widen in fear. She screams so loud for such a tiny thing. Her shrill screams provided me with more adrenaline. Teenage Elle sits on top of the dresser with her legs swinging. Today she's dressed in her school uniform. ("You and your Lolita fantasies, brother.")

Selena Wade is my Mr. Bittle Fox.

Her insides are pink and red and her blood, I've learned, tastes just a tad bit sweeter than Elle's. Teenage Elle is holding the camera and laughing gleefully, nearly jumping up and down as she tells me which area to poke and prod.

"Wonderful!" She screams. "Say hello to Bigger Elle, Ian! Come on! Wave at the camera!"

So I turn around and blow her a kiss. And Teenage Elle puckers her adorable pink mouth to blow one back at me. Then I wave at the camera, four fingers bending up and down.

And innards are slipping out of the large incision, and she's twitching, dying, poor little thing. You're just a sad girl, aren't you? I stroke Selena's hair. Her eyes are still wide, tears trailing down them. You never really had a chance, did you?

"Can I keep her?" Asks Teenage Elle as I step back, satisfied with the work I had done.

"She's dead. Where are you going to keep her? She's going to start stinking soon."

She pouts. Then she's quiet for a while, staring at the body. Teenage Elle puts the camera down. Her eyes are sparkling, an explosion of blue and gray. She smiles mischievously.

"I have a naughty thought."

"Oh?"

""Mhmm." Teenage Elle answers coyly, staring at Selena. "She's very attractive, isn't she?"

"Don't tell me you've become a dyke now." I roll my eyes. "A dyke and a necrophiliac? You keep surprising me. And here I thought you were just a sociopath."

"Not a dyke…" She says loftily, sitting on the bed next to Selena. "Merely quite curious."

"About?"

"She does look an awful lot like her father."

"And?" I wipe the knife with the blankets.

"And it'll be like being with Hector Wade, and then it'll be like having Keiko."

"Elle, sweetheart, in case I haven't said this to you before, allow me to say it again. You're one twisted bitch."

"…said the man who played doctor dissector with her." She purrs. "Will you watch me?"

"Would you like me to?"

She stares at Selena for a while before smiling. "Of course I would. I always like it when you watch me."

So I do.

She kisses Selena's neck, nuzzling it. Murmuring things I can't hear. And I get horny all of a sudden. Because it's Elle and everything she does always makes me hard. Then her clothes are off and she puts her fingers inside Selena and she giggles.

"Still warm." She announces, looking up at me. By then she's smeared with blood. Again.

"Nothing like a warm body." I agree.

Teenage Elle proceeds. When she moans, I almost come right then and there.

"Indeed." She sighs, licking her fingers. "Nothing like a warm body."

"Nothing like yours." I say.

"You say the sweetest things." Teenage Elle crosses the room and fixes her hair. "Now hurry back to New York. Come back to me."

She steps into the mirror and I realize she's left her clothes. So I take them and I bring them to my face, her warmth and her smell still on them and I want to cry because I love her _so much_.

When I open my eyes, her clothes are gone and my hands are empty.

Elle.

Please.

I promise

to

never leave

again

I promise

to

stop

being your brother

(I never wanted to be

if I could,

if you want me to,

I'll bleed out

the thing that binds us

like this)

if you could just

come back

to

me.

I can learn

to stop hurting you

if that's what you want

I can learn

to take care of you

to do things

that will make you as happy

as a child

(Like what Conner did)

and to stop

making you feel so filthy

for wanting to love me back.

Because you can, you know.

There's nothing wrong

with that.

There's nothing wrong

with us.

There

never

was.

* * *

A most unexpected update, I can assure you. Anyway, I'm still deciding as to whether I should continue going into their heads and just switch perspectives for the remaining part of this story. I generally hate doing that, but it was really fun with Seb and Elle and Conner and Ian. So we'll see. 

Thank you guys for reading. Still reading, that is.

Also, if things go as planned, I'm asking you guys in advance. Have faith. Things will happen in gradual terms.

Annablake: Perhaps the questions you're asking will be better answered when I go back to K's way of thinking. Patience, answers will come. ☺ About being really curious as to the other stories I've been working on, why thank you. They're a bit different from CI though. An example would be about getting involved with a half-goat, half man creature. It's all very strange. Oh. And I've decided to write a story based on Elle and Ian's characters. Not exactly CI them. I'm twisting and molding them a bit differently, but the essence is still there. I also find their relationship fascinating, so much so that they've gone past CI for me.


	50. Break

**Part Two, Chapter 19: Break**

**break brāk verb ( past broke brōk; past part. broken ˈbrōkən) 1 separate or cause to separate into pieces as a result of a blow, shock, or strain **

_  
I knew something was wrong just in the way you said 'I'm so sorry' _

_The story read and I pleaded for you to continue _

_  
With you in my presence the pictures reassemble themselves _

_Return to the cracked frame on top the television_

-"Reassemble" by The Honorary Title

A monster's hand has penetrated my chest. It now holds my heart, squeezing just squeezing I can't breathe oh god I can't breathe I try grasping the monster's arm but I can't move I can't do anything except watch and feel the blood from the hole in my chest dripping down my breast and my stomach. It stains my dress.

"What did you do?" Sebastian's voice cracks and his eyes are filled with horror. He swallows. His eyes are watery, but he doesn't cry. Nobody ever cries between the two of us. "Kathryn, what did you do?"

I can't talk. All I can do is try to hold on to who I had been, it had worked well so long ago. I take a step towards him, eager to breathe in his scent, to press my cheek against his clothes for that smell on his shirt that makes everything all right again. And he doesn't move thank god he doesn't move when I touch him.

I hug him, still not speaking. I hold on to him for a long time, waiting for him. Waiting waiting waiting.

"Let's start over," I say, hating myself for sounding so fucking hopeful and anxious and scared. "it'll be like before, only better. I swear, it's just us now."

"You're as bad as that sick fuck is." He replies, cold as steel left out in the snow. Even his touch is cold. His skin suddenly unfamiliar and unforgiving. "Do you have any idea what you did? Do you, Kathryn?"

I look at him. "I didn't know, I swear I had no idea he was going to kill her."

He opens his mouth but closes it. Then he sighs, pushing me away from him. He raises his palms up in a gesture of surrender. "I'm sick of this. I don't want to fight anymore. You want to know something? You make me sick. You're repulsive for associating with a man like Ian fucking Fox. When I find him, I'm going to crucify him."

I hate myself more and more for being this person. For saying this in a small voice: "What about us?"

"Us?" He reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a velvet box.

Oh, god.

He takes out a gorgeous diamond ring. My mouth drops open slightly. The hand holding my heart squeezes tighter. He holds the ring with his thumb and index finger, his eyes tumultuous. His mouth taut with tension and pain. The box falls on the floor. He throws the ring out the window as hard as he can. "That's where we are."

Then he leaves. And the hand in my chest lets go. 

I don't know how I got to the phone, don't know how I heard Blaine's voice mail. I don't know how I called Conner's number, never even realized I had it memorized. He answers, like always. I don't know how I manage to get a drink while I'm talking, or what I even said for that matter. I try to explain everything but it comes in short bursts, and eventually I quit trying to get my hands to stop shaking.

"Please come," I hurl my glass across the room and felt no satisfaction watching it break.

He does come ten minutes later, his face grim. Maybe I should have chosen him instead, we'd make a pair, wouldn't we? Murderers triggered by the Foxes. Conner sits on the bed. He takes my hand.

"I keep losing him." I laugh. Stupid fake laugh. "Even before. Even when we were young. We'd go to parties together and before the night ends, I'd lose track of him. Or he'd lose track of me. It's one way or another. I wonder why that is."

Conner glances at the clock and then at me. Surveys the room, or rather, the mess. Then he kisses the top of my head and starts cleaning up. Kathryn-proofing the room, checking the places I could hide whatever drug I could use. Making sure the shattered sharp pieces of whatever was out of the way. He picks up the small velvet box and glances at me.

"I would've said no," Another thin smile. "At least, for a few hours. I would've made him suffer a bit, made him see what it was like to wait. But then I would've said yes."

He places the empty box on the side table near me. I pick it up and throw it in the trashcan. Conner goes to the bathroom and I hear the water running. Sebastian used to prepare my bath for me too. He goes through my closet, picking out clothes for me to wear. I watch him.

"Come on," he says after making sure everything was in order. "let's get you ready for bed."

"What I need is a drink," I counter, refusing to budge.

"Kate, you have two options. Either I carry you or you walk there. I've seen you naked, it hardly matters whether I'm the one that cleans you up or not." He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows. Elle does not deserve him at all.

"One drink, Conner. Just one."

"Okay, that's how you want things, fine." He undresses me and then scoops me up. Efficient handsome prince Conner. He deposits me into the bathtub, stroking my hair.

The water does do wonders for me. It's warm, and my muscles loosen just a little. I lean back and grab the loofah, closing my eyes. "Thank you," I tell him quietly. "Thank you a million times."

"You're welcome a million times." He wipes his hand on the towel. "I'm calling Blaine so he can stay with you."

"What? I thought you were." Disappointment in my voice as rampant as the fruity scent of the shampoo Sebastian commented he liked smelling on my hair once.

"Look, Sebastian's looking for Ian. Ian is highly unstable. Elle's meeting him right now, I'm going to—"

"No!" My hand shoots out of the water, grabbing his leg. "Don't come near them!" They were poisonous.

"Kathryn, listen to me." He bends his knees, resting his arms against the tub. "Sebastian will know where he is. Don't ask me how, you don't really have to ask me that. Sebastian has ways of knowing things, and right now I'm pretty sure he's either on his way or he's already there with them."

Fuck. Panic spreads inside me. I scramble to stand up but Conner places his hands on my shoulders, steadying me. Dark, dark eyes reassuring mine.

"I'm going to call Blaine," he repeats. "to stay with you."

"To hell with that. I'm going with you."

"You said it yourself. They're dangerous, I can't have you go with me. I can't stay, please just—"

His phone rings.

"Yes?" Elle. He mouths.

Put it on speaker. My frazzled, fucked up nerves.

He does.

"Please tell me why on earth Sebastian Valmont was in my house sneaking around in the fucking dark like some crazy weirdo," her voice is low, amused. I hear a low groan in the background, faint. Followed by an even fainter string of curses.

"He was looking for Ian." Conner's eyes tell me to stay calm.

"Oh," I can almost see her smiling. Stupid malevolent twisted bitch who has Conner. "My brother just left an hour ago, your cousin broke in for nothing."

"You goddamn bitch," I hear Sebastian again. "I think I sprained my ankle."

"I'm well within my rights to kill you now, Mr. Valmont." Elle replies, oozing charm and sex. "Now unless you want me to break your leg, I suggest you remain silent."

"I'm on my way to pick him up." Conner says briskly. "Will you at least put some ice on his ankle please?"

Elle sighs. "Oh… all right. Please hurry, and watch your step when you come in. Everything's fucked up."

"Jesus, Elle. Did you have to beat him up that bad?"

"Pretty, blue eyed Sebbie just tripped over a table. Everything's broken because of Ian."

"I tripped after you fucking punched me!" Sebastian grumbles.

Elle laughs. I want to kill her for hurting him.

"You were trespassing. And I thought you were Ian." She says. "I'll see you soon, Conner. Bye." Soft, soft voice.

"Slut." I roll my eyes. "Let me go with you when you pick him up."

"Ian might—"

"Let him." I blink. "Then I get to kill him myself for doing what he did." I pause. "For hurting Sebastian."

---

Elle doesn't look surprised as she opens the door. She has a split lip and a bruised cheek. Her arms are scratched. Conner touches her lip and frowns, but she shakes her head slightly.

"I'm fine," she tells us. "He's in the living room."

Sebastian's ankle has swollen up to the size of a watermelon. Okay, I'm exaggerating, but it still looks pretty bad.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He snaps, looking at Conner and me. "I called a fucking cab a while ago."

"Kathryn was worried," Conner explains.

Sebastian laughs loudly, placing his hand over his chest. "Oh, I'm touched. Really. Thank you. That's Kathryn for you. She'd have people killed just to have me."

His lip was also bleeding. Courtesy of Elle Fox. I try to hold the ice bag for him but he kicks me away. 

"I said fuck off, Kathryn." He growls. "You too, emo boy. Fuck off. I don't need both of you."

There's a horn outside and he hobbles, hopping, limping, looking pathetic. I follow him out, ignoring his attempts to push me away. Conner tries to help him. Elle grabs my arm just before I leave.

"Let go," I tell her evenly.

"This won't take a minute." She says, smiling. With eyes so beautiful and blue, fox like small face like a breathtaking child.

"Hurry up then!"

"Listen to me," she begins, leaning closer. "You have no idea what you just did, making a deal with my brother like that."

"I'm not in the mood for one of your lectures right now."

"This isn't a lecture." She glanced at Conner and then back at me. "I don't care about whatever problem you have with Sebastian, I don't like the fact that Conner's at your beck and call. Mark my words, Kathryn. If you take him from me, I'm going to hurt you. You've already taken Ian from me from doing what you did. I can slit your throat or cut your fucking head off. Ian's my brother for a reason."

There are no words to explain my horror for the calm way she said all that.

Then she leaned back, smiling prettily. "Now you can go. Goodbye."

I walk out of the room in a daze just as the cab begins to drive away. Half running, I pound on the door until Sebastian rolls down the window.

"I'm not letting you leave unless you let me in."

He opens the door sullenly. He leans against the window in silence while I look outside, wondering how to get through him. Conner's standing outside Elle's house and I raise a hand to wave at him. I smile at him and he smiles back, warming me as I sit inside this freezing cab.

"Forgive me," I talk without looking at Sebastian. "I love you too much. I had more to lose this time around."

He doesn't reply.

So I sat and stared outside and remained silent, thinking about the events that had gotten me there. And then, as though my mind produces something to keep me from being numbed, I remember Conner and how he'd taken care of me. I remember him smiling and waving as I left.

I didn't know it was the last time I would get to see him smile.

* * *

A/N: I'm aware of the gap in between, the unexplained events. I'm also aware that this chapter may or may not seem like I was the one who wrote it. As I've said (in the other update for Involuntary), I'm trying to get used to writing again. I haven't been myself. Anyway, that's about it. If you're still reading this, thank you.  



	51. Separate

**Part Two, Chapter 20: Separate**

**separateverb ˈsepəˌrāt **

**1 [ trans. cause to move or be apart**

**• [ intrans. become detached or disconnected **

_ If you just walked away  
What could I really say?  
Would it matter anyway?  
Would it change how you feel?_

_I am the mess you chose  
The closet you cannot close_

-"Everything Changes" by Staind

"How long does he have to wear that thing?" 

Sebastian glares at me. The doctor gives him details on how to proceed with his sprained ankle, and when I offer to buy him a cane (he said the doctor was overreacting when he told Sebastian he needed crutches), he tells me plainly to fuck off. The doctor gives us a surprised look and I try not to flinch at the harsh words. When the doctor leaves, Sebastian shrugs my hand (that had been resting on his shoulder) away.

"You can leave," he says rudely. "Tuttle's picking me up."

"Why are you being such a shit?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

We remain quiet. He glances at his watch.

"Do you really want me to leave?" I look at his injured ankle. Somehow I can't even bring myself to look at him.

"Did you mean what you said back then?" Typical Sebastian, answering my question with a question. His voice was a little warm, hesitant. A little.

But when I look at him, he's still staring at me coldly. His jaw still clenched.

"I must have," I reply. "If I said it."

"You say plenty of things you don't mean."

"Yes, but not when it comes to something like that. "

Silence. He's playing with his cell phone. He looks tired and old. I did that to him.

"How would I know if you meant it?"

"I've never told anybody else what I just told you," I reply, stung. "The least you could do is take my word for it."

"Your word?" He laughs. "What worth does it have at this point?"

"I'm sitting in a very uncomfortable chair here in the waiting room with you when I could be at home or out with someone, a man, or a few friends. But I'm here, Sebastian. I'm fucking here." I want to hit him. I want to leave but I don't, because I know that I didn't really want to leave. I just wanted to want it. It would be so easy to revert to my old self. I wish I could. When you're young, things are so easy. "You know me. You know that means something."

The same sad, misty look in his blue eyes again. "A few weeks ago, it would have. I wanted to marry you, I spent hours looking for that ring. But you did something I can't forget. Maybe I'll forgive you someday, but I'll never forget what you did. I'll never see you the same way again."

He states this softly, as though we were seventeen again and we had been at that point of sneaking around at the back of the auditorium at school, with his hand on my thigh and his finger tracing circles on my skin. Quite a contrast. Like when Elle said what she said with a sweet smile on her face. It makes my blood run cold, something strange in my body ache.

"One more thing," Sebastian continues in that gentle voice. "Tell me the truth this time. You owe me that."

"What do you want to know?" Break. Crack. Snap.

"Did you ever sleep with Conner when we were together?"

His words hung like clouds over my head, heavy and thick. I only stared at him.

He looked away and stood up as best he can. He hobbled away from me.

"Blaine's not here yet." I call after him. "Come back for a while."

"Take him." He says. "Just leave me alone."

And he leaves. Blaine comes five minutes later. He finds me still seated there.

Waiting.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry."

Waiting.

"Whatever. It's not like he means something to me anyway."

Waiting.

"Okay," Blaine says as we head outside. "If you say so."

Waiting.

"Come on," he kisses my forehead. "Let's get you home."

He's not going to come back.

---

I have never been here before.

A deep ache I can't explain, it hurts when it doesn't. And I can't reach it, I want to do something but I can't find out where it hurts maybe if I hit myself I'd get distracted because then I'd feel that pain and I'll be in control of everything again not like now that bastard that stupid, stupid bastard.

Someone is ringing the doorbell. Repeatedly, loud so loud the chiming hurts my head my ears goddamn it.

He's not going to come back.

He's not.

Don't be a moron, Kathryn. He's not going to come back. He's not going to stand outside your door with flowers on hand and a cane on the other. He's not going to pull out a new ring and ask you again.

I get up and open the door anyway, and it's Ian. He's standing there, his face just as bad as Elle's was. And his eyes are teary too, and he looks so sad I can't even slap him for what he did I can't hate him for being a murderous animal because it's like looking at myself.

"You're pathetic." I state, not knowing why I didn't fear him at all.

He exhales through his nose, a form of a laugh that doesn't reach his eyes.

He was not a murderer at that moment, something else bound me to him. Some form of camaraderie, a companion in that miserable state of mind. I can blame him all I want, but I had chosen to collaborate with him in the first place. I was not without fault. Looking at Ian now and seeing the same blank stare in his intense, gorgeous blue eyes (like staring into space, without knowing the depth of it), I step aside and he goes in.

"You were never here," I tell him. "Never, fucking here. Do you hear me? Do you understand?"

He nods and he wanders to my kitchen. His clothes are rumpled and torn. His right cheek had four deep scratches. Elle. He drinks water, clearing his throat.

"Sebastian's going to have you arrested,"

"No, he's not," he replies.

"What makes you so fucking sure?"

"Because you helped me," Ian scratches his jaw. "He'd never get you involved like that."

"Yes, well," I smirk, feeling that hollow ache all over again. "I wouldn't rely on that if I were you. He pretty much hates me. How'd he find out anyway?"

Ian shrugs. "Unforeseen circumstances."

"Cut the shit, bastard. You got me into this mess."

"Another set of video surveillance in the vicinity," he smiles. "I got too excited and too carried away in what I had been doing to think straight."

I shudder, his eyes suddenly maniacal at the memory of killing Selena.

"Did you tell him I was involved?"

"No,"

"How did he know?"

"He had my phone tapped. I made a lot of calls to your phone, remember? There was no forced entry. He had the key especially made for you. There really isn't any option left, Kathryn."

"You stupid sick shit."

"Thank you," He grimaces, suddenly holding his ribs.

"What happened to that?"

"My sister,"

"I feel sad that she didn't finish the job," I remark, still annoyed at the peculiar bond I felt with him.

"So am I," he replies softly, the pain evident in his eyes. "She doesn't love me anymore."

"Boo-fucking-hoo, Dr. Lecter."

He looks at me for a long time, noting the puffy red eyes and the unhealthy pale pallor of my cheeks. "I could say the same thing to you, Kathryn." He says in that deep voice of his that despite the circumstances, I still found charming. "Boo-fucking-hoo."

"Why are you even here?" I sit down, watching him trace patterns on the counter. "Of all places to be, why are you still here? You should have left the country hours ago."

"Maybe because I wanted to see you,"

"Oh, great. Are you flirting with me? No, thanks. I don't like murderers."

"Funny you should say that," Ian smiles. "Don't you know how Alana Valmont died?"

"Conner's different from you," I glare at him.

"Don't worry, okay? I'm not going to hurt you. It's just, well," the teasing smile disappeared. "I didn't have anybody else to talk to. I only had Elle, and now she's gone."

Silence.

"Want a drink?" I stand up and he nods. "But you're so not staying the night, no matter how stupidly drunk you are."

"Agreed."

An hour later.

"If we didn't love the people we loved, do you think we could have ended up better than how we are now?" Ian rubs the sweaty glass against his forehead.

"I don't know," I think about what happened in the cab earlier. How did it even happen? "All I know is, I could have been planning my wedding to Derrick right now instead of having a drink with a psychotic killer. You know, I don't even know what I'm doing with you."

"You trust me," Ian says with that weird scarily beautiful glance of his.

"I don't. It's just that I don't fear you. And you also just got dumped and fucked over."

Silence.

"Kathryn, I did come here for a reason." Ian suddenly takes my hand but his grip is loose and affectionate. Even though he's badly beat up, he still looks great.

"Which is?"

He kisses my hand. "To apologize."

"If you're waiting for me to say it's okay, you'd be wasting your time."

He stands up and I stand up too. He trails his finger down my cheek.

"I wasn't talking about Selena." He whispers. "Goodnight, Kathryn. Thank you for the drink."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alarm bells are going off in my head at this point.

"Notwithstanding the circumstances, I'm glad we met."

He leaves. Ian Fox, with his calm smile and arresting stare. That's the image that would permeate my dreams that night.

There was only the feeling of separation. Of being split into two and watching the other one live life from a fixed point. I flip through an old magazine lying around and realize that they had done a feature on Sebastian (One of the most eligible businessmen bachelors in New York). He was looking at the camera and he wasn't smiling, like he had just stood there and stared impatiently until the photographer was done.

_Valmont, at twenty six, proved to be as capable as his father Edward Valmont in handling…_

I skim. I'd glance at the photo every now and then.

_I know you must get asked this a lot, Sebastian, but what do you look for in a woman?_

I hide a smile. I wonder what on earth possessed him to agree to being included in this stupid magazine.

_I want someone who knows me. Someone I can trust._

Just those ten words. I can imagine him saying that.

I'll tell you this. When you get to the point I'm in right now, it doesn't matter who you are. This kind of thing doesn't exactly choose its victims. It's like death actually.

I call him up.

Same dead voice.

"What?"

"I meant it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You asked me if I meant it earlier," I down the glass of scotch in one easy gulp, suddenly thirsty. "I meant it. It's like I've been separated from myself, like everything's unreal. This has never happened to me before, so it must mean that I meant what I said."

Silence. That cruel thing called silence.

Click.

I hang up the now dead phone, the dial tone still lingering in my ears like a demented song that refuses to leave. I really felt ill. I was suddenly angry at myself for everything I had done and for everything I had let happen. I wasn't just talking about Ian either.

It doesn't even matter if Sebastian forgives me or not. I don't care at this point. I just want it to stop.

I just hope-

I just-

I hope never to feel this lonely again.

* * *

A/N: It's a miracle people are still reading this. Okay, sorry for being self deprecating. I do like writing this. And if you really are still waiting to see what happens next, I'm grateful that you're still curious. I really do feel like I owe it to you guys to finish this, so I'm going to try my best. Sorry I haven't updated as frequently as I used to. Apart from that very disturbing new story I had about a mentally imbalanced Seb of course. I've been pretty busy writing other stories too. Actually just one. You wouldn't believe how grueling it was. (grimaces). But it's done now, hurrah! 2700 words equals headache. I really don't have the freedom I have here, which is really sad because it makes things more difficult for me. I always have to watch what I type. I think I shall go insane if I attempted a novel. Lol. Now if I could just make it way way better that'd be fine.

Okay I've rambled on too much. I'll be posting the outtakes and some of the songs I had listened to while writing this, sort of like a soundtrack. Not really a lot of songs though. And a bit of info behind the characters and all that stuff.

Well, people. Till the next one!

Whenever that is. :)


	52. Another Look Into The Anguished Mind

Another Look Into the Anguished Mind of a Man named Ian.

I.

_ I fall asleep with thoughts of her. Tiny face, luminous blue gray eyes and a voice that has a million and one meanings all wrapped into a whisper, a song. My Elle. My big sister._

_ When we were young, her eyes were like blue stars that twinkled only for Keiko. I'd see them in their room, tangled in a heap of limbs on a bed they soon outgrew. She was paler then. She rarely went out on dates even though everyone wanted her. Not at first, anyway. She was like the idea of paradise; always there and yet out of reach. My friends would go to my house to catch glimpses of her and Keiko, but soon the novelty of Keiko's beauty went away. And then there was just Elle to look at, because she was so quiet and Keiko was always flirting with them and being beautiful and charming. But with Elle, it was different. She smiled a lot, like she knew that was all she needed to do._

_ She'd pop her head into my room and everyone's heart would stop. A quick flash of her gleaming, bright eyes. Then, that voice._

_ "I'm going out to buy food," she says. Or whispers. "Want anything?"_

_ That was her. The guys would just stare at her and she'd ignore them. But there was always that almost smile on her mouth. The left side just a few millimeters up, like she knew what they were thinking. Being desired made her glow._

_ Even though she did this often, it always took me a few seconds to reply. About two blinks from her._

_ "No, I'm good," I answer. "Thanks."_

_ She nods. Then leaves and I clench the video game controller. I listen to my friends talk about her, about how lucky I was to be living with her and Keiko._

_ "I guess," I shrug._

_ But then I knew that I wasn't really lucky to be living with them._

_ It was a constant torment._

_ To want someone like this._

II. 

_I saw her kissing Keiko._

_ Once. On the lips. But then I realized this was how they greeted each other. It was never followed by clothes coming off or tongues touching. It was just a quick smack, a peck. But it made my insides clench and it made me curse my dick for being there. I think maybe if I were a girl I'd also be included in their little world._

_ Then Elle finally got a boyfriend._

_ Quiet, beautiful Elle with her whispers and mood-ring eyes._

_ I don't know where she met him, because he didn't go to the same school with us. I just saw them at the movies one night, waiting in line. Her head was thrown back and she was chuckling at something he said and god she just looked so normal and happy. Their arms were looped together. His name was Bobby. What an awful name. But she looked at him like he was the sun and moon and the most beautiful night ever. He had blond hair and brown eyes. A little bigger than me, a little older, too. They were so intimate, so close to each other. How long had she known him to be in that place with him?_

_ They kiss, and Elle's eyes are closed and you can tell, you can just tell that everybody is looking at them. Or aware of her presence and how she made everything spark on the inside._

_ I lower my head, trying not to get noticed. My face burns, my heart has grown four arms and they are shaking all at once. I walk past them, losing whatever interest I had for a certain movie I was going to see. But then, I hear it:_

_ That whisper._

_ "Ian," her eyes are open, but she isn't looking at me. She's looking at the crowd and her forehead is scrunched and she looks surprised._

_ "What?" Bobby asks, sounding annoyed._

_ "Ian," she repeats my name, still frowning. "He's here."_

_ "Who the hell is Ian?"_

_ "My brother," she answers. He looks pissed off but then she silences him with her soft eyes and her mouth. When they buy the ticket, he looks happy again._

_ But I see him hold her hand like he's afraid she was going to suddenly leave him. _

_ Elle just scans the crowd one more time but I keep on walking._

_ She may have chosen Keiko first but we've always had the stronger connection. I am with her even when I'm not, in Bobby and later on, in Derrick and in Conner._

_- _

_ One day, she comes home sullen. She scowls a lot. She doesn't talk for a while but I knew that Bobby was gone. Keiko talks to her for a while, stroking her hair and saying things in murmurs. Then, silence._

_ Until Elle creeps into my room in the middle of the night. I wake up and there is this figure standing in front of me, this tiny, quiet girl._

_ We were never close, Elle and I. Not then. But I open my arms and she slips under the covers. We listen to each other breathing. I tentatively stroke her hair too. The way Keiko does. And she purrs slightly like she's a cat and like I'm doing it right._

_ My heart, the one that has four arms, grows wings and flies around my body. Whatever the moron Bobby has done, even if he has broken her heart, I thank him. Because for the first time, Keiko hadn't been enough. For the first time, Elle needed me._

_ "You'll never leave me, will you?" she says in my ear. Her lips brush against my earlobe and I shiver. "You're the only boy who'll never leave, right?"_

_ "Ellie, never ever," I promise solemnly, taking her small hand and grasping in the dark until I find her finger. I make her cross my heart. She does. I allow her to mark it as hers. X marks the spot.  
_

_ She chuckles and then she leans back, quiet. I know she is watching me. And things are changing for us._

_ "Never ever," she muses. "I like that."_

_ "I'm glad,"_

_ Then she's quiet again. She takes my hand and wraps my arm around her. I hold on extra tight._

_ Now I know exactly how Bobby felt that night at the movies._

_ I'm scared to let go. I'm always afraid Elle will leave and never come back._

III. 

_One of Elle's friends, Janine, comes to my room one time. She sits on my bed with her long legs and her gum chewing that drives me nuts. She eyes me quietly, all long and tanned and blonde._

_ "Have you ever been with a girl?" She asks._

_ "No," I reply._

_ "I think you're hot," Janine says._

_ "Thanks," I don't reciprocate her compliment not because she wasn't beautiful, but because I didn't want to play this game with her._

_ "Don't you find me attractive?" She pouts, blue eyes sensual._

_ "I guess,"_

_ Then she sits next to me, and her breath smells like Doublemint. She plants her mouth on mine and she kisses me._

_ "I've wanted to do that for a while, but Elle never let me." She admits, smiling. She finds a piece of paper from her purse and places the gum there. She puts the paper in her pocket._

_ She slips her hands underneath my shirt and her skin is cold, her nails are too long. She starts kissing my neck, whispering all these things that are supposed to make me feel good and horny and they work._

_ I want to get lost in her voice, I want to find beauty in her whispers too._

_ So I let her take my clothes off and then I kiss and nibble on her body, exploring it. I like how it is long and tan, I like how her hair is blonde and light. I like how she moans and says my name, like I am in control. For once, I am in control of how I feel._

_ Janine takes a condom from her purse and she rolls it on me. I'm stiff and god the ache, this excruciating period of waiting to be inside her._

_ "Beautiful,' she breathes, touching me and stroking me. She places her mouth on it and her head bobs up and down like I am her god and she is sucking on the altar. I grit my teeth and gasp and when I can't take anymore, I push her away and I enter her._

_ The searing perfection of it all! To be completely sheltered like this, to move and moan and be entwined like this. Janine is kissing my shoulders her mouth is open and she is moving against me, too._

_ And then the door opens behind me._

_ "Elle," I suddenly say even though I don't see who actually opened it. It's like that night at the movies, only I'm the one who senses her now. "Elle," I say again, my voice stronger. The orgasm ripples through my body at the mention of her name. My bones are nothing but dust and I want to laugh and cry because of the explosions happening inside me._

_ I pull out of her and turn around, and sure enough, it was her. She just stares at me quietly. Then her gaze lowers to my still erect dick._

_ Things_

_ Keep_

_ Changing._

_ She looks back at my eyes again. She ignores Janine, who says sorry even though she sounds like she's really not._

_ My arms are itching to move, to do the same thing I did that night when she came home sad about Bobby. To hold them out for her, to ask her to lie with me on my bed and to hear her ask me to never ever leave her._

_ But she just closes the door. Janine sits up to hug me and she kisses the back of my neck._

_ "Beautiful," she breathes again and again, as though she is on drugs or something. She touches my hair, my lips, my stomach. She hugs me, offering her body for me to taste and explore any way I wanted._

_ I don't take the offering._

_ I don't feel 'beautiful'. Nothing about me is beautiful. Only my sisters. Only my Elle._

IV. 

_Keiko just died._

_ Elle is so quiet, like she's dead too. She won't let me touch her, talk to her, even just to say hi. She has the eyes of a doll, all glassy and shiny and lifeless. We buried Keiko a week ago._

_ I am worried that she will die, too._

_ I am worried that she'll leave, too._

_ Please don't ever leave me. It's not fair that I made the promise and you didn't. It's not fair how you get to leave and I don't._

_ Her grief loves her, molds her into someone whose beauty surpassed Keiko's. She goes on dates, gets boyfriends, and even brings them home. I hear them late at night. I hate how she talks to them and not to me. But even her moans sound anguished, and the pain from them rips me apart so much that sometimes I need to turn on my CD player to drown her out._

_ One day I just can't take it anymore._

_ "Don't do this to me," I say. "Please don't, Elle."_

_ She looks up. "Do what?"_

_ "You're not the only one who lost a sister,"_

_ She doesn't reply._

_ I sit next to her and grab her chin. I force her to look at me, really look at me, not with those doll dull eyes of hers. She does. Her hand touches mine and she strokes my palm with her thumb._

_ "There's something wrong with the way I want you," I tell her, and then my eyes are tearing up and I want to tear them out of my sockets. "you know that. I love you more than anyone I've ever known and will ever know. Don't shut me out."_

_ She opens her mouth and only her breath comes out. Without a sound._

_ "I'm scared," she finally says._

_ "Of what?"_

_ "That you're like her," she replies softly. "That you'll make me love you and then suddenly leave. I'm scared to want you the way you want me because when your brains are all over the wall I wouldn't run away. I'd scoop them up and put them in a jar and keep it with me forever because it's a part of you. Then I'll fade into nothing."_

_ "I'll never do that to you," I wipe the warm tears from her skin. And I kiss my thumb, kissing her tears. "I promise."_

_ She kisses my hand and holds it against her cheek._

_ "My Ian," she says._

_ Your Ian._

_V._

_ She calls me one day to tell me about Selena Wade._

_ I fly to New York just in time to see her having lunch with a man at the restaurant we always ate in. Pale, curly dark hair. Maddeningly intense eyes. I lose my appetite. I don't know how I always walk in on her dates. The weight of her presence crushes me and makes me feel alive at the same time, and all these long months away from her multiplies the longing by a million._

_ But I don't intrude. She smiles and laughs and she looks kind of like the way she did with Bobby. And sometimes she looks a bit like when she's with me._

_ And that troubles me._

_ But I don't say anything._

_ Instead, I pretend like I never saw anything. I'm afraid of the answers she will give, because I know she will never lie to me._

_ - _

_ She has the biggest smile on her face, she jumps into my arms and kisses me all over with her pink lipstick all over my skin and I laugh and whisper "I missed you,"_

_ Elle says, "Me too,"_

_ She holds on to me just a while longer and it's okay. I bite the words back: I love you, Ellie_

_ Then she talks. And talks. About Selena Wade. And I am lost in her words, in her voice, in this love._

_ When a woman named Kathryn introduces herself to me later on, I just smile. I think I like this woman. She doesn't look like the other women, all the Janines in the world. She is someone else's and I am someone else's too._

_VI._

_ I expected Elle to jump into my arms again._

_ But she doesn't._

_ She's happy with the gift, the video. She watches the murder with a small smile and every so often, she'd reach out for me and hug me and kiss me._

_ "You're wonderful," she says. "do you know that, Ian? Do you?"_

_ I don't reply. I just pull her against me and we watch the movie for a while until I get sick of the blood and everything. I look around the room and there is a framed photo of Elle and Conner. And she's _smiling

_ Fear clenches my heart into a fist. Tighter, tighter._

_ "Elle," I kiss the top of her head._

_ "Hmm?"_

_ "Will you do something for me?"_

_ She looks at me. "What?"_

_ "Leave him,"_

_ "What?" she asks disbelievingly. Then, coldly. "What did you say?"_

_ I repeat it._

_ "No," She stands up, turning off the television. "I will not leave him."_

_ "Why not?"_

_ "None of your fucking business!" She yells and I cringe, because I am not used to hearing her speak at that volume. "I want him and I'm keeping him!"_

_ "You don't need him! You have me!" I grab her arm but she shoves me._

_ "The things he makes me feel, Ian! You can't possibly have a grasp on what it's like—"_

_ "You're right, I don't." I cannot contain the pain that makes me feel like I am the one being killed. "I can't have a grasp on that because all there ever was in my life was you. Because I promised you that it was only you, and I'm sorry for that. I'm fucking sorry for feeling this way."_

_ Elle rolls her eyes. "Don't give me that bullshit."_

_ "How does he make you feel then?" I challenge her. "How the fuck can you feel dissatisfied from everything I've given you?"_

_ "He doesn't make me feel guilty!" She screeches, her face red. Her eyes are furious, teary. She kicks a chair. She throws the phone. She knocks a lamp off the table and I watch the light bulb break._

_ "Guilty for what?"_

_ "For kissing! For wanting!"_

_ "There's nothing wrong with us!" I try to touch her but she slaps me. She claws at my arm and I wince in pain._

_ "You don't understand!" She slaps me again and again until I lose my patience and I hit her back. It isn't fair that she's the only one who gets to hurt me._

_ Things break. Blood is shed. Bruises form. Hearts break and die._

_ And then, silence. Around us are broken things beyond repair. Elle has a split lip and I think I may have broken a rib. We just stand there staring._

_ I tell her. "You know I'll do something about it. We'll never be like before."_

_ "Please don't," her voice trembles. "Please, Ian. We can't end like this."_

_ Her eyes beckon, shiny and vulnerable._

_ "Without you, I'll die," Elle whispers. "I'm sorry, god I'm sorry please don't do this, you can't leave us like this,"_

_ She crumples to the floor, her palms in her eyes and she's shaking. Like clockwork, I go to her. I kneel and wrap my arms around her, shushing her through her soft hair._

_ Things keep changing and I just want to stop everything and make it the way it was. Flashes of our youth come to me as we rock back and forth, soothing bruises and each other as though we were still children._

_ "Choose," I whisper._

_ She hiccups, grasping my shirt tightly. She holds on to me the way Bobby held on to her hand and the way I wanted to hold on to her that night he broke her heart._

_ "I want to stop," she's shaking so much that I'm worried she's gotten sick or maybe some sort of infection or maybe this time I've hurt her too much. "I just want to stop being sick and start feeling things. Please understand."_

_ But I don't understand. I really don't. I can't understand anything because Elle is too busy eating my heart up with its four arms and wings. I stop moving. I grow very still and she looks up, her eyes wide and so beautiful oh god they are exquisite._

_ "Come on," I say instead, not having the heart to do this now. So I carry her and she sighs in my arms and for a few minutes everything is right in the world. We cuddle with our hurting bodies and she says that things won't change, that she can be with Conner and me too._

_ But I've never liked sharing._

_ So when she falls asleep, I kiss her forehead and I leave. _

_ I want to cry but I can't cry anymore. She's taken my tears and my heart and she's never giving it back because she's eaten my heart and washed it down with my tears and it's inside her digesting._

_I ache without a heart and without tears that would have warmed my otherwise cold face._

_For the first time in years, I talk to Keiko._

_Please help me._

_Please take me._

_There's nothing now.__  
_

* * *

A/N: Sorry for those who're still reading this. I actually wrote this bit to prepare for a different story outside CI. 


	53. Elle Talks

Elle.

I.

_Little brother, where are you? Where are you now?_

_ Don't you understand what you've done to me? To us? Please don't make me hate you, I can't stand it. I won't be able to stand it. Hating you is like hating my arms or my legs. Even though they are bruised, it doesn't compare to my heart. That thing that beats and beats inside me it's so loud and full of loss and longing for us. It's like when you punched me and bloodied my lip; you were holding a piece of my heart. Then you punched it, too. Then kicked it, and you looked so furious and sad. Were you crying, little brother? My never ever sweet little boy who promised? _

_ Please don't cry. Please come back. Or I'll die and shrivel up and be ugly and no one will want me anymore. Conner won't want me anymore. Will you?_

_ I reach out for you but you're no longer there. Only your blood is. It stains your pillow. Yes, it's _your_ pillow. I touch it and then I bring my face close to it and I breathe you in. I stick my tongue out and I can almost taste you, and then it's like you are inside me again._

_ I'm hiccupping, sobbing. I call Conner but he can't say anything to make me feel better, so I say goodbye. I curl up and shut my eyes tightly so tightly so I can maybe sense if you're still nearby._

_ But I can't. Why can't I see you anymore?_

II.

_ I've always wondered about a lot of things. Guilt, in particular. Even when I was young, nothing has fazed me. I can do bad things without feeling ashamed. I can stick pins into cockroaches, fuck with people, and slice Mr. Bittle Fox open but sometimes when I look at you, all I ever feel is guilt. Like every bad thing I've done exists in you._

_ When we were on our own, remember that one whole day we had together? We packed our bags, wiped our bank accounts clean, and then went to Mexico. Do you remember? We weren't as wealthy as we are now. We were still children. Teenagers, technically. But children nonetheless. I see that now._

_ We only told people our first names, only we faked it. You were Aaron and I was Anna. Like twins, only we never told them we had the same last name. It was sort of a game for us._

_ And so everybody oohed and ahhed, what a couple we made!_

_ And we were, weren't we? The sweetest, best looking couple there?_

_ For the first time, we kissed and touched and no one ever thought we were disgusting. I remember it well. You looked so handsome when you tanned a golden brown and we were at the beach. We cuddled and whispered and said nice things to each other with the ocean to complete our safe little world._

_ Girls wanted you. They looked at me bitterly, and when they tried to talk to you while I was away swimming, I'd sense it. I'd know it, and I'd come out of the water and glare at them and they'd scatter like a flock of seagulls. Then you'd shrug innocently and grin, your big white teeth and broad shoulders and blue, blue, blue eyes all so happy._

_ "What was that?" I ask, hands on my hips. Dripping wet with salt water._

_ "What was what?" You reply, scratching your stomach with its little muscles I loved touching._

_ "Oh, so that's how it is?" I stomp off, looking for a guy while _Aaron_ laughs. I hear you walking behind me, calling me _Anna_ please come back baby I'm sorry you know who I'm with. And it's just you, I swear._

_ We both glance at this man, this beautiful, beautiful man. Who looks a little like Derrick, only I haven't met Derrick yet. And he looks at me and I smile just a little and I have him. I know I have him. And you knew it too._

_ Because before I can take one more step, you grab my arm and turn me around. You look so frustrated and handsome, frowning at me like that. I pout and shuffle my feet and you lace your fingers with mine and you kiss my forehead. You smell like coconuts from the suntan lotion. The grainy bits of sand rub against my skin._

_ "If you knew, if you just really, really knew, Elle." You tell me. "You would never let things like that get you mad. If you just knew how much I thought about you and love you and how I want to marry you and have kids with you someday, you'd never flinch when girls come and talk to me."_

_ I look at you for a while; you look so sad and sorry that I quickly forget about the beautiful man waiting for me. I cup your face and you lean down you've grown so tall already and you look older than me. I kiss you on the mouth and I let my tongue play with yours and little bits of joy travel all over me because I can do this with you out here in public._

_ We remain wrapped up in each other, Handsome, handsome _Aaron_ and quiet little _Anna_ with their matching hair and skin and nose and sometimes, when my eyes are blue; we have the same eyes, too._

III.

_Your cell phone is off and I've been pacing I can't sleep anymore not after that stupid idiot Sebastian broke in looking for you. How I had wished it had been you. I may have punched him because I was angry that he wasn't you. I think he sprained his ankle but he's gone now they're all gone Kathryn went with him. She loves him, you see._

_ "Hey…" Conner's voice interrupts me and he approaches the room. Gliding with imaginary wings and a halo with his dark eyes concerned. I want to swallow up his concern and his intentions and I want to be noble like him. "Are you okay?"_

_ No. Never. I'm not okay._

_ "I don't know," I look up at him. He's so tall. "Promise me never ever, Conner."_

_ "What?" He smiles, so blinding that smile. My angel man._

_ "Nothing,"_

_ He wraps his arms around me and he smells nice not like coconuts and sand. But still nice. I flinch, because you beat me up pretty badly. Conner's eyes narrow, but he doesn't ask._

_ "Come on," he says. Quietly. Always quietly, like he knows me so well already. "Let's get you cleaned up."_

_ I allow him to lead me upstairs, where everything isn't a mess. He attends to my cuts and bruises and I kiss him. I wonder about his words, his capability. The extent of his angel-man powers._

_ To clean me up until I am glowing white again, like before. When everybody was still alive and with me._

III.  
_  
_

_ I find you._

_ It isn't easy, but I do. I do because even though you left me, I licked your blood and then you are inside me again. Where you go, your body still calls out to me. It's at a hotel. An obscure little hotel. I know you could have afforded to stay somewhere nicer, but you had switched hotels to hide from me. You think I'd never find out? Of course not, little brother. You watch me, I watch you. That's the way things are._

_ I bribe and flirt to make them tell me where you are. As I grow nearer and nearer to you, my entire body hums with anticipation at seeing you again. I miss you like I'd miss my eyes and my mouth._

_ When you open the door, you don't look surprised to see me. It makes sense. You probably knew I was coming, didn't you?_

_ You look banged up and bandaged, my love. Are we going to have another go at it to see who can hurt whom the most? Are we going to have more broken things and skin and bones?_

_ You're playing a song. Solitude by Ella Fitzgerald. It reminds me of smoke and lights and nights in bed that are like Mexico. Fitting. And yet at the same time, it's not._

In my solitude, you have me.

_ Your eyes are red like you'd been crying but now they're hollow, like an empty well. You look at me like you don't even know me._

_ But slowly, very, very carefully—_

_ I stroke your hair and your cheek and then I have to tiptoe a little so I can hug you._

_ "What do you want?" You ask in a raspy voice, groggy and drunk._

_ "Mexico," I reply, kissing your neck. "Mexico in New York always and always."_

_ "I'll never be able to give you that," your voice breaks into little bittle pieces._

_ "I know," I close the door behind me and this time, you're the one who falls on the floor, sobbing and shaking with your eyes shut and your body curled up into a fetal position. Loud, pained cries escape your mouth and you grit your teeth and hit yourself because you want to stop crying._

_ I stroke your hair and lie down beside you. "My Aaron,"_

_ "No!"_

_ "Yes," I hate that you are still shaking, still so sad and resistant. "Do you remember me, your Anna?"_

_ "Stop playing with me, Elle." You reply, wiping your tears. "Just stop."_

_ "Mexico in New York," I kiss you, tasting your tears, tasting the ocean as it trails down your cheeks. I unbutton your shirt kissing and licking and when I come across your bandaged torso, I kiss the bandages. Your weeping eventually subsides and you're breathing quietly now, watching me._

_ I undo your belt and unzip your pants; touching you and feeling you harden beneath my fingers. I kiss you there, too. You groan, beautiful boy lashes fluttering like a girl's._

_ "Please, not tonight." You beg. "I can't stop the way I usually do, I can't not be inside you."_

_ "So we won't stop," I reply and your eyes open and I don't like how they are red and how you look so fragile maybe if I said a cruel thing you would break._

_ "You mean it?" You ask._

_ I take my dress off and you devour me with your eyes first, and then your hands. I take your right hand and put it under my panties, writhing and groaning and calling you _Aaron

_ You lick and suck my breasts like I was our mother and maybe I was. I am your mother and sister and best friend and only friend and love. I am everything in one. I claw your back and urge you on, rubbing myself against you and holding you. Because things like this never last._

_ "Elle," the tip of your erection touches my waiting lips and I swallow thickly. Your eyes burn mine, full of life again. "Elle, say Ian. Don't call me Aaron. Not tonight."_

_ Our hands join and I think sometimes that maybe we have the same hands, too. Only yours is bigger and longer and mine is just a little whiter._

_ "Ian," I whisper. "Ian, Ian, Ian. Never ever and always and always."_

_ You finally go inside me and then it is like you are the key to something and I am the key to something of yours too. Because tears fall as fluids flow back and forth back and forth and we are panting groaning loving._

_ And it hurts to move too much but you sit me up and I embrace you and whisper nice things like when we were at the beach._

_ "Leave with me," your voice is wobbly again. Perfect, crying Ian. "Please just leave with me."_

_ "Shh…" I silence you with kisses, going up and down on your lap like we are meant to be joined like this. I think maybe you are my twin sometimes, that they lied when they said I came out first. I think maybe sometimes you were inside with me, and that our bodies have been joined long before now._

_ But then sometimes I wish that I would get a phone call. I don't know from whom, but I'd like to speak to anyone who can tell me that_

_ We don't have the same blood, and that us having the same hair and nose and hands and (sometimes, when my eyes are blue) eyes._

_ I wait for a call that will never come, for a reason for everything to be Mexico._

_ So when we are about to come (I know when you are close, because that's just how we are, that's how much you are _inside me_), I suck on your lip and close my eyes and hold on tightly so we can enter that new world together._

_ Colors and lines and shapes move and melt and form into new things only we can name. We both cry out in pleasure, exploding into each other. Braving a fucked up world where we are children and we can hold hands and love and kiss and maybe even sometimes if we feel like it, kill._

_ "Elle," you keep saying my name, crying again, knowing the new world can only be taken in brief snatches. I stroke your hair and feel your seed warm inside me and I wonder, for the tiniest moment, I wonder if maybe we weren't human and that suddenly a child would come out of me and she (or he) would look like us and she (or he) would be so beautiful with ten perfect toes and fingers and gray or blue or gray blue eyes and long black lashes and dark, dark hair. And then we can all live together and you'll buy a ring and ask me to marry you and we'll get married and we'll belong to each other and to the baby._

_ Then maybe Keiko isn't really dead at all, maybe she's alive and she'll come visit us and be Aunt Keiko to her (or him) and play with her (or him) and kiss her (or him) and everybody will be happy._

_ You pull out of me and then carry me to the bed, asking me to lie down and stay still when I reach out for you like a needy child. When you kneel in front of me and kiss my slippery mouth, I bite the insides of my cheeks. The shame is far away, but I can see it. It watches me, waiting to pounce, but for now there is nothing else. Nothing else but Aaron-Ian and Anna-Elle and Mexico-New York. And maybe the little baby Fox. Who I know will never exist because my eggs and your semen are like magnets with the same large glaring positive sign. Or negative. Either way, they will repel._

_ You're trying to suck and lick yourself off me but I place a hand on your head and you look up and I shake my head, smiling. Tired._

_ "Leave it," I say, and your eyes cloud over. You're so concerned._

_ "It will never happen," I tell you. "Just leave it. I like how it feels inside me."_

_ So you do, and you still keep licking and biting and then your fingers are inside me and I close my eyes and remember you when you were a little boy and you kept staring at me with those large blue eyes of yours thinking that I'd never notice. Then I imagine you as that little boy and that it is your little dick inside me, and you are mewling like a kitten my love my Aaron-Ian._

_ I come all over your sheets, my body liquefied. I feel the aftershocks as you clean me up. You and Conner always want to clean me up._

_ You take your place beside me, looking at the ceiling. Quiet._

_ "Adios, Mexico," you say bitterly._

_ I don't reply. I think at this point we both knew._

_ It was the perfect way to say goodbye._

IV.

_ Conner is still up, waiting for me. The first signs of daybreak light my way as I step inside to find him there. We just look at each other and I wonder if he can maybe sense what I had done._

_ "We've belonged to other people all our life," he plays with his untouched mug of coffee. "So much so that sometimes I don't know if we have anything left to give."_

_ I don't speak._

_ He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants. Then, he goes to the kitchen to get another mug. He pours me a cup, too. And he toasts a bagel for me._

_ "But if there's anything left to give, Elle, I want to give it to you." He places the mug opposite his, and then the bagel on a plate. He picks up the jars of marmalade and places them neatly lined in front of the bagel so I can choose. Then he comes up to me and I can tell that he smells you in my hair, that man, tough smell. But he only hugs me tightly, kissing the top of my head. Always Mexico with Conner._

_ My voice comes out, as wobbly as yours had been when you asked me to leave with you._

_ "I need to tell you something,"_

_ And he just listens. And listens. His expression never changes but mine does. Because the shame and the guilt just swallows me and rips me and hits me._

_ "I'm filthy and disgusting. I should never be alive."_

_ "No," he says gently, drawing me into his saving arms. He rubs my back to calm me down._

_ "Are you going to leave me?" I ask in a tiny weak voice. "Because I know sometimes you'll think about it and imagine it and see me with him in bed and maybe it's going to be too much."_

_ "Elle," he murmurs and I look at him._

_ His eyes are so dark and warm and they make me feel so safe and normal._

_ "Your coffee's getting cold," he says instead._

_ I pick the coffee up and he sits down. I sit on his lap and he chuckles._

_ "Me, too," I say._

_ "You too, what?"_

_ "I want to give whatever's left to you."_

_ He's quiet again. He nuzzles my neck. "Good," he answers in that deep whispery sexy voice of his. He carries me in his arms and I try not to spill the coffee on him, we go outside and we sit on the bench in my garden. He holds me against him like he knows I will fall apart if he doesn't. It is only then that I am truly able to sleep._

V.

_Little brother, forgive me._

_ Never ever is over._


	54. All Roads Lead To

**Part Two, Chapter 21: All Roads Lead to--**

_And the sun sets in the sky  
You're the apple of my eye  
If the bomb goes off again  
In my brain or on the train  
I hope that I'm with you  
'Cos I wouldn't know what to do  
It means nothing_

-It Means Nothing by Stereophonics

He is dead, blood all over the room, big, beautiful eyes staring without anything behind it.

This is the aftermath. The lights dim, people move slowly, and the characters have reached that point wherein they know there is no real healing from this, no 'time heals all wounds'. They all know that from this point on, things will be different.

I'm sorry to tell you that some parts of this bit will be told by various people, because this is what happens when your heroine suddenly suffers what seems to be some sort of mental breakdown. Anyone suffering from a mental breakdown, as it happens, will tend to have certain lapses.

As these things go, when her train of thought suddenly stops, we will rely on the other characters to pick it up.

To illustrate, the first part will be told by:

The heroine herself, before she stopped functioning properly—

There is nothing to tell, really. All I can do is try to remember.

Beep. Beep.

I'm beginning to hate hospitals. I have no fond memories that include being in one, and that infernal beeping makes me want to stuff wads of cotton in my ears just to make it stop.

He comes up and sits beside me but I don't acknowledge him.

"You need to eat something," he tells me quietly. "Kate, please. You can't do this to yourself."

I look at my hands, pasty under the harsh lights.

Then he tries to put his arm around me and at first I resist, but then the hard muscles, the familiarity of it, I can't help but let him hold me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmurs into my hair. "He'll be okay, you'll see."

"Don't talk." I reply. "Please just be quiet now, you don't know what this is doing to me."

I've hurt him, that much I can tell by his silence. But he still continues to hold me, to stroke my hair.

"Want me to go?" He whispers after a while.

"No." I say, looking at the sleeping man. "Never ever."

The words escape my mouth before I can even process it. I cringe, remembering when it was said by another. _Never ever, never ever_, like a maniacal lullaby. Yet I think it's the only fitting reply. Don't go. People are always leaving.

Then we remain quiet, and eventually he adjusts his body so I would be more comfortable leaning against him. This is what he's always done.

"You know, you have to take care of yourself too." He kisses my forehead, our separation sidelined "I'm serious, Kathryn. I know how you can get."

Beep. Beep.

Fucking hospital.

My fingers grasp his sleeve, tightening and tightening.

"Sebastian." I say.

Our eyes focus on the sleeping man again. Silence reigns.

Beep fucking beep.  
--

Sometimes I think we're thinking about the same thing, me and Kathryn. Sebastian here, by the way, in case you were wondering.

But then I guess that's what you do when you generally go through hell. You just try to remember when things weren't like this, when your on/off girlfriend hasn't been reduced to a zombie and you can't do anything to help her. The fucked up part?

I'm not even sure I still love her. Not anymore. Not like before.

So I try to remember the instances when I did.

Like before I left, when I was thinking about the ring. She was getting so distant, and she was going to places I had no idea about. Off meeting someone? I didn't know. I didn't ask. There's something about loving a person that renders you stupid and scared. So sue me. I was scared to lose her.

Before I left, I went to her place. I guess I can only take so much. When we were related, I thought about what it would be like with her. The sex, of course, would be fantastic, but contrary to what you believe in, my life is not led by my dick. I thought about other things, too. Like how things would play out for us.

Here's a reality check.

You never know what you're going to get. You can love someone for years and then one day something happens and you can't find it in yourself to see that person the way you used to. So even if it's _Kathryn_, it's just how it goes. Nobody's really exempted from that rule.

Do I want to leave her after this? After everybody heals?

I don't know.

Beep. Beep.

Sometimes I think if she just bends a little more, she will snap. And despite everything, despite all the fucking doubts, I can't let that happen to her. So I'll stay, no matter how long it takes.

But I don't know where to go from there.

Here is what happened that made everybody stop functioning.

Kathryn and I were separated. So consumed was I in finding that sick murderer that when I found him, I began following him. It sickened me to think that she had been meeting with this man. Did they fuck? Did he make her come with his murderous hands? Did he kiss her, put his tongue in her mouth and did she moan his name louder than she did mine? Did she even think of me? Was there ever really something between us, the way she claimed there was? Was that 'I love you' nothing more than a pathetic attempt to keep from losing? From getting dumped and rejected? You see, with her, there are too many questions. With her, I never really know. I used to find it exciting. Now it just tired me.

That day, he was at his sister's house. And then Kathryn came too, I had been outside when I saw her get out of her car. And goddamn my fucking heart. It thumped and bled, because prior to that, I hadn't seen her. She looked pale and tense, and I knew there was something wrong. Don't ask me how I knew exactly. I may not know what she's thinking all the time but if you've lived with her for as long as I have, you tend to know these things. I used to be able to tell when she's taken too much coke.

These prickling things at the back of my neck, instinct, you can call it, it just confirmed this feeling I had. There was something wrong. I wanted to run over there, to grab her and tell her to stop, but I didn't. Don't ask me why I didn't. Pride, maybe. And looking back on it, I realize how stupid that sounds. But then again, that's reality for you.

She was inside about ten minutes. By this time my nerves were already burnt. There was something wrong. Was that a shot? Goddamn it, was that a fucking shot? No? No. I crept closer. Things breaking, that's all. I would have ignored it otherwise, but not when Kathryn was inside, goddamn it. Not with her inside.

So I went in. Voices. Someone was crying and it wasn't Kathryn.

I ventured into the living room, the area of the wreckage. Conner's face was bleeding and Elle was screaming and Ian was screaming back, waving a gun around. And Kathryn was there, too. She seemed like she was frozen, petrified. Her mouth formed a small O and she was looking at Conner, who was barely conscious.

Then she saw me, and her eyes just widened a little bit more. She shook her head slightly, _No. Stay back._

"You should have taken him away from her like you promised." Ian turned to her, rubbing the gun against his jaw. "We had a deal, remember? Remember, Kathryn? I thought we were friends."

Conner moaned, is there still even a face underneath all that blood? Elle stroked his hair, her features held a quiet fury that was beyond sanity.

"Ian." She barked, gritting her teeth. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Or what?" He yelled. "We're through! You don't have any more control over me! You made sure of that!"

"Put the gun down and we'll talk," she whispered, changing her tactic. "Come on, you don't want to hurt Conner, right? You know it would kill me."

"No, it won't," he replied. "Because you said that the only thing that would really kill you is if I died, remember? You said it, Elle. You said it."

Two loud shots. Explosions that changed everyone's life. Kathryn screamed, then she started sobbing, like someone just turned on a switch inside her. Rationality left me, because she looked like she couldn't breathe. I ran to her like I always did, our fight forgotten. The siblings didn't even notice me. She latched on to me, crying against my shirt, her little body shaking _so much_.

Then Ian turned to me. Elle looked monstrous, inhuman, her eyes seemed bluer than anything I had ever seen.

"Ian," her voice trembled with barely concealed rage. Her hands were shaking. Conner wasn't moving.

When Ian looked at me, it was like looking into nothing. Just a void. It chilled me, despite how angry I was with him, his stare cemented my position. He didn't seem surprised to see me.

"You're lucky," He told me, glancing at Kathryn. "Take care of that. Things rarely ever stay the same."

And then Kathryn buried her face in my neck. I held on tightly. I closed my eyes.

"I'm going to kill you." Elle hissed.

Ian whispered something.

And then Elle started begging.

One more shot.

Everything was over.

"You're lucky," I told Sebastian, filled with disdain and admiration and envy because of what he had. "Take care of that. Things rarely ever stay the same."

He frowned, confused. But he'd understand soon, he'd know what I was talking about.

"I'm going to kill you." My sister hissed, and even now, even now that she hates me, I still tremble at the sound of her voice.

"I wish things had been different." I pointed the gun at her and she stared at me. My love, my only love.

"Without you, I'll die." I whispered. "Remember what I said? Never ever and always and always."

She opened her mouth. So did I.

I put the gun in my mouth. It felt cold. Maybe like Keiko's mouth turned into steel, like our big sister was giving me a kiss.

Oh, the look on Elle's face now! The anger was gone, in its place was fear, real, real fear like that day Keiko died.

"No," she cried out. "Please, Ian, don't."

I tried to smile but I couldn't. I froze the image I had of her, blue eyes dripping with tears. I was filled with so much regret it hurt more than she could have ever hurt me.

"Ian," she whispered, tears dripping immaculately down her cheeks.

Click. Mental picture taken, the only image I would ever carry with me.

Darkness loomed.

"Without you, I'll die." He told me, handsome face filled with so much sadness that it melted my anger. "Remember what I said? Never ever and always and always."

I was about to retort when he placed the gun inside his mouth. The mere sight of it sickened me, I had never realized how much he looked like Keiko until now. Flashes went into my head. Haywire. Aaron-Ian and Anna-Elle and Mexico-New York.

Everything's gone too far, please not him not little brother Ian my only family he doesn't know he doesn't know how much just how much—

"No," my pride was gone. "Please, Ian, don't."

He was almost close now, just one touch, I knew it, if I could just touch him, he'd put it down. If I could just make it go away, if he would just let me do it, just come closer and make him understand that—

He blinked. His eyes were glassy, no longer his. I was looking at Keiko now.

"Ian," I said softly, the tears felt strange and warm on my face.

An explosion. Blood and brains all over the wall.

And then, I saw nothing else.

"Ian," Elle said.

I saw everything as if it was a dream. My entire body hurt like hell, I could barely see through all the blood. Sebastian was holding Kathryn and I was relieved because of that. Elle was talking to her brother, I think it was only now that I realized how much she really loved him.

My fingers twitched, trying to hold her hand. But she stepped towards him, determined and frightened.

He pulled the trigger. There was blood everywhere, and Elle, beautiful sad Elle.

It was like the soul had been sucked out of her.

At this point, the pain overcame me.

I slept.

I hope she's okay.

"Do you need anything?" Sebastian's voice wakes me. My mouth feels dry, my stomach empty.

"No," I sit up, rubbing my eyes. "How's Elle?"

He looks down. "She hasn't spoken yet."

"It's been five days."

He nods. "I know."

We both look at Conner.

"He's so thin," I say. "Do you think that maybe they're not doing it right? That he needs more—"

"They're doing their work properly," he interrupts me. "You need to get some rest."

"I know." I played with the hem of my dress. "We haven't talked about…"

"Yeah," he replies. "It can wait after things get better."

"Will it?" I look at him. He holds my stare.

"Kathryn," he sighs.

"Will it?"

He doesn't reply.

"You can't stay here and do this to me if it won't. Don't make me depend on you again if you're going to leave."

He sits down next to me.

"You can't honestly tell me that things haven't changed." He tells me quietly. "Things don't turn out the way they should sometimes."

"Are you going to leave?"

He shakes his head. "Of course not, you still need me."

I curl up against him until we are snug against the couch. He strokes my hair the way he usually does, until I'm drowsy again. I sleep better when he does that, somehow his breathing drowns out the beeping too.

I look at him. His eyelids are beginning to droop.

"Sebastian,"

"Hmm," he says.

"I would have said yes."

"I know," he whispers back.

Silence.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Sebastian,"

"Hmm,"

"I still love you."

Silence.

He kisses my forehead. "It's not the same anymore, is it?"

A long pause.

"No," I reply. "No, it's not."

Sebastian has convinced me to go get something to eat. As we head back to Conner's room, I notice Elle walking past the nurses. She walks differently now. Slow, hesitant. Like a little girl. Her eyes, while they still have their arresting color, now seem vacant.

Through the glass window I see her stare at him. Sebastian and I watch her.

She strokes his jaw, kisses his dry lips. She climbs into bed with him, curling up. She takes his undamaged arm to wrap around her.

She whispers something in his ear.

And then—

Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeep.

Doctors and nurses rush in. She doesn't seem bothered until they try to get her to leave the bed. Only then does she kick and scream, her fists clench and hit, her eyes burn as though she has a fever. It takes a lot of male orderlies to restrain her. My heart drops and Sebastian is there, like always, even though I know that maybe he doesn't like me as much as he used to. He's made that pretty clear, and strangely enough, it doesn't really feel nearly as painful as seven years ago, when he left.

They do everything they can. And Elle, she's just crying. Even though I hate her for the part she played in this, right now, I feel nothing but pity for her.

Somehow I know that it was going to happen. So many things are happening.

Time of death, 11:45 pm.

Elle walks out of the room. I never see her again.


	55. You

**Part Two, Chapter 22: You.**

_ Hey, are you lonely? Has summer gone so slowly?  
We found the ground  
And that damage was done  
It's cold as you fade into the sun  
Where'd you go? To me?_

-Fair by Remy Zero

He notices it too. I know it.

He's moved back in with me, but whenever he touches me, it feels different. We look at each other differently, too. Sometimes I think we remind each other too much of everything that's happened.

We stay like this for months until one day we just come home from work and we look at each other with solemn eyes.

"Kathryn," he begins.

"I know," I reply.

He looks at his hands. At his feet. Then at me.

"I hate that this is happening to us," he says. "We're not supposed to be like this."

I nod. What else can I say?

"I'll get my things tomorrow," he says quietly.

"It's good this time," I reply. "that we're saying actual goodbyes."

There is no adequate metaphor for what is happening right now. Poetic language will pale. Not even Sebastian could make it sound beautiful.

Ever since Conner died—

Wait no. That's not even right. Not just Conner. Even Elle and Ian, what happened to them. How they died in their own way, how horrible it had been. How sad. Sometimes I wonder where Elle is. Her things are still in her office, but by now they are packed in boxes. The boxes are in my house. Despite her faults and her obvious mental problem, I find myself looking for Elle.

Ever since what happened, everything that has been happening to me has been a blur. It can be compared to how there are times when you lack so much sleep and yet you have to spend the day doing something so all you can do is just stare blankly and things don't register like they used to.  
It is like being wrapped in something and nothing else ever gets through. I am not sure if you have that feeling, but that's the best way I can think of putting it. When you are exposed to something like this, it gives you the feeling that everything in the past is trivial. It forces you to look at yourself, at what and who you have become. It forces you to remember and regret.

Things like this outweigh games and love and lust and sex and work. I can honestly tell you that I am not that seventeen-year-old girl I had been so long ago. I was not the same person who had hated Annette, who had wanted to fuck and kill Sebastian.

The loss I feel exceeds whatever loss I had felt when Sebastian had left. To me, that now amounts to nothing. Just a fucking blip. But don't get me wrong. It doesn't mean that I had wanted Sebastian any less. Time just gives you more insight, that's all. Past burdens seem lighter.

"I'll be in my office," I tell Sebastian. My words feel dry. Empty shells and hollow words and hollow crucifixes, my blue eyed boy. He stands there staring, his eyes hold a fire I envied.

In my office hangs the photo Conner had given me. Little Kate and Teenage Conner. How long had it been? Never mind. Never ever fucking mind. I try to ignore the boxes that contain Elle's things and take a seat. I turn on my computer, checking my email. I look over a few press releases.

Then it comes, this frightening monster chomping away my thoughts. European Prince Charming, my best friend, my other-love. Goddamn it. I rest my elbows on the thick pad, placing my palms over my eyes. Goddamn it. God fucking damn it.

You. Yes. You.

I remember when you came to New York and you picked me up from school and it was like this little stupid crush from so long ago just started growing. I'm not going to go into it, into the whole bet-Sebastian-Annette-getting-hit-by-a-cab-almost-dying-he-hated-me-thing. You know that very well by now.

This is about you. And me.

This is about you not being able to call me or see me. This is about you being in a jar placed on the Valmont mantelpiece in Madrid. This is about you as a decorative tool. Just another one of those pretty things you oohh and ahh over until you realize there's a person inside that pretty thing. This is about me missing you. This is about me remembering you.

You know that cliché, that thing about not knowing if you're going to be around tomorrow so you better say things you want to say to people otherwise it's just going to get lost and before you know it, you're dead and now you don't have a chance?

You. Yes. You. And me.

Why is it that we have had so many conversations and now it feels like those conversations weren't as many as I would have liked?

I remember your face your eyes your mouth your tongue your hands your voice. I remember how you understood me the most. It seems like you knew me in ways not even Sebastian had known me. I remember the eulogy I had written for you, only I hadn't been able to say it because I had been holding to Sebastian's hand too tightly until he began to pull me away. We left your funeral. Or rather, we left you just before you got burned.  
Then Sebastian, you know what he did?

He pulled something out of his pocket. Your ring. And he has it in a new chain, a better, stronger one, and he put it on me and then you know what I did?

We were in a closed room and my knees buckled like I hadn't eaten for days and Sebastian held on to me. And it was like the growing distance between us was gone, like you were responsible for pulling us back together.

You. You. You. You. You.

Are gone.

Then he pulled me on his lap, he stroked my hair.

"Ssshhh, shhhh," he whispered. "Kathryn,"

My eyes leaked this foreign salty liquid that I had grown to hate and I'm shaking so much and Sebastian, you know what he did?

He kissed me, and when he did it was like he was sharing my grief. Like he wanted to take it from me or at least share it with me.

I had never loved him as much as I did at that moment.

But still, still.

I remember the blood the vacant stare the closed eyes. I remember you and me and us and how you promised me a week with you for my birthday and how we never got to go anywhere.

Sometimes I feel like I am locked in a room and Sebastian is trying to get in I hear him knocking knocking until the knocking ceases and then there is silence. And it turns out he's in another room now and the door is closed.

Your ring is cold against my chest. All I want is to see you again.

You. And me. The abrupt ending to our story.

A knock.

Sebastian stands there.

"You're not the only one who lost something," he says.

"You don't understand," I reply. "You were gone for a while."

"I lost you," he answers quietly. "We've been at this for the longest time now, and I still lost you. Conner's death isn't the only reason to grieve. Other deaths have happened."

Don't go. Don't go.

Don't.

Don't.

He touches my cheek. His eyes are solemn. Damp.

"My love. My Kathryn," he whispers, pressing his lips against mine.

He draws me into his arms like that day when I was supposed to talk about you and who you were. Past tense.

Sebastian and I melt into each other. Warm puddle where limbs and hearts used to be.

"You're going to be okay," he says, kissing my eyelids. He is all warm and salty and sweaty and naked and my eyes are all warm and salty too.

"Yes," I reply.

We melt.

Until we evaporate.

--

Hours later. No, wait. Days later. Weeks later. I don't know exactly.

I come home.

Nobody else but me.

But still, I think.

I am changing, like as the days go by I am slipping into a different version of myself.

A new Kathryn. It is a nice thing to change. To grow for nobody else but yourself.

* * *

A/N: Holy shit I'm actually almost done. Right. So. Roughly 2-3 more updates here, one for the epilogue, the next two for the deleted scenes. We're good? Yeah? Yeah. All-righty then. If you've reached this far in the story, hurrah!

Now, we're almost at the end of the road here. An explanation as to why this happened? I wanted this to feel as real as possible. I also wanted to emphasize the character's personal growth.

Now, have a little faith. I had been on Team Conner but I killed the guy.

Faith. All I'm asking. Some things should never be rushed. :)

**edited this bit:**

My keyboard dripped with blood in the previous chapter, but we do hurt the things we love, don't we? Anyway, the word document this story is in has about 883 pages, roughly only 600+ were used, so there are plenty of outtakes that does involve everyone alive and well. One particularly boring day, I wrote a version of Kathryn ending up with Conner, so I might post that too. It's actually a happier ending that the bloodbath but what can I say? Bring on the pain. If I posted everything I ever wrote for this story, it's going to take a lot of chapters, and we're all tired, aren't we? So I'll just be choosing the ones I do like. After the epilogue, which should be up whenever, I'll also put a bit about poor Elle, Ian, and Conner and how they came about just for the heck of it. I guess also what I've learned when writing original characters in fan fics. Anyway, that's it. Yes, the end is indeed near.


	56. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Beautiful Things Can Come from the Dark  
**

Paul: It's me again.

Jeanne: It's over.

Paul: That's right. It's over and then it begins again.

Jeanne: What begins again? I don't understand anything anymore.

Paul: There's nothing to understand. We left the apartment, and now we begin and love all the rest of it.

-From _Last Tango in Paris_, directed by Bernardo Bertolucci

A year later—

Kathryn wonders what color he would like. She cocks her head, completely immersed in thought. Around her, the entire store buzzed with overexcited holiday shoppers. They're really getting on her nerves. Usually, she is not the holiday sort of person but these days she is already a little okay and she feels better than she has in months so she has reluctantly joined the madness and is now shopping for a present.

"The dark blue one's kind of nice," a voice casually remarks behind her.

There is only one man with that voice, one man who has the gall to suddenly hone in on her personal space without being invited. Unable to speak for a few seconds, she turns around and sure enough, Sebastian is standing in front of her smiling.

Sebastian. Of course. And what the hell is he doing growing that gross blond fuzz of a beard? Has he spent the year on some deserted island?

He narrows his eyes, pursing that still delicious looking full mouth of his. "Allow me to guess the identity of the man who will receive such a generous Christmas gift from you…" he rattles off a list of names, starting with her ex Derrick ("Well how was I supposed to know he'd already gotten married?" Sebastian rolls his eyes).

"So?" he motions at the rack of suits. "Who's the lucky man? Let me see… about an inch or two taller than me, with dark hair and features that are about as far from mine as humanly possible while still maintaining your very high standards of wealth and good looks?"

"Actually he's a little shorter than you, with very bright blond hair and blue eyes."

"Ah," he smiles. "You have excellent taste it appears, and I'm only saying that because this man shares my general physical traits, though I'm sure I'm better looking and more charming."

"I wouldn't say that,"

He appears wounded, but his blue eyes still retain their good-natured glint. "And have you found him to be _the_ _one_?"

"Not really,"

"Why not?"

"Because we both like men," She holds up a black suit and picks out a tie, holding it out. "You think Blaine would like this?"

He laughs. Kathryn can't help but crack a smile.

"Definitely that one then," he replies. He follows her as she pays for the suit, carrying a large shopping bag of his own. "It's surprising how you're nice enough to actually get him a decent gift. I think the last gift you gave him was a blind date with a man who turned out to have a weird foot fetish."

"Oh, you know," She signs her name on the credit card receipt. "I figured he earned it. I had been impossible to bear with for a while."

"And now?" he asks, looking at her.

"Now?" She holds the shopping bag and shrugs. "Now I'm not so bad."

"Good," he muses. "That means I can safely tuck my pepper spray away."

"Sebastian, I think you should definitely tuck your _pepper spray_ away. At this point I can honestly tell you that you've no use for it." She manages to say with a straight face and then he bursts out laughing and it's weird it's like when he laughs, she can't help but feel like smiling.

Kathryn looks at the large shopping bag he holds. They walk around for a while, occasionally pausing to look at an item. He looks better somehow. More mature. The boy she had known can now only been seen in glimpses.

"May I ask who that's for?" She motions at his shopping bag. "You don't look like you'd buy something for yourself at Victoria's Secret."

He just grins.

"Let me guess… about 5'8, with a neck like a giraffe's, barely legal, barely able to form a correctly structured English sentence despite being born and raised in America, a model, red hair, blue eyes, and just generally has features that are quite far from mine and yet at the same time maintaining your standards of beauty and stupidity?"

"Hmm…" he grins wider. "Not quite. Actually, she's about 5'1, weighs two hundred pounds, is actually very smart and capable, dark hair and dark eyes."

"Oh my god you've gone insane and you've started banging ugly women. Gross."

"My secretary, you idiot," he chuckles and she tries not to let the sound remind her of how he used to laugh like that when they were alone in bed and how horny it made her. "A little thank you gift for putting up with me when I was spending a month in Japan. She practically got about an hour of sleep for the whole month because I kept calling her to set up appointments with clients. You know how it is."

"But Victoria's Secret…?"

"It's a little gag gift, something to wear for her husband." He replies. "Anyway, she's used to me being a cheeky little bastard."

"Ah,"

"It seems that we've both been too assuming,"

"It seems so," She agrees. They round a corner and she suddenly stops when she sees a cashmere sweater that would look great on her. He realizes this too late and he ends up bumping into her.

"Oh, sorry," he mutters, grabbing Kathryn's arms to steady her. Heat rushes to her face. His eyes are unfocused. He is looking somewhere to the left. "I thought I found something I liked,"

She follows his gaze.

There's a stupid slutty looking saleslady who is smiling at him.

"It certainly looks like you did." She snaps and his eyebrows shoot up at her tone.

She grabs the nearest sweater even though it's about two sizes too big and goes to the dressing room.

"Kathryn," he calls out, running after her. They zigzag in and out of clothes racks like children until he finally gets a hold of her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," She answers. "I'm having a blast. How're you?"

"I was looking at the long sleeved shirt," he explains, pointing at the rack behind the slutty saleslady.

"Right," She smiles brightly. "Well, I'm off to try this on."

He squints at the tag. "That's like two sizes too small for you."

Goddamn it he still knows her measurements?

"Actually, it's more like three sizes," She replies meanly even though they both know it's really two.

"Are you jealous?" he asks, surprised.

"Of course not, like you're the center of my universe?"

"Well, I wouldn't know exactly," he answers softly, taking the sweater out of her hands. He hangs it on the nearest rack and he leads her out. "I haven't been around these days."

"Well, you're not."

"What if that's not what I'm asking for?" he looks at her. All traces of humor are gone.

"Like you're in a fucking position to negotiate after annoying me and ruining my shopping?"

"Okay, first of, that was a great suit choice for Blaine and second, unless I missed the memo that the in thing this season is to dress like a rapper with that baggy sweater that will undoubtedly fit you like a burlap sack, that sweater was really not your size so I don't know how I could possibly ruin your shopping day."

"You—"

"Me—" he interrupts, shushing her with another penetrating stare. "Right. Back to _me_. What I was saying before you ruined it with your big potty mouth is that although I'm quite sure that I'm not the _center of your universe_, as you put it, what I would like to do is to not disappear from it."

"Meaning what exactly? We become bosom buddies and wear friendship bracelets and promise each other we'd be best friends forever?"

He gapes at her, "Where do you pick up this shit?" he asks in wonder. "I mean seriously, where? Do you have your period or something?"

"Actually no, I'm four weeks pregnant."

His eyes bug out. They're like two golf balls or something. His mouth opens and closes and his face pales. He looks like _he's_ going to have morning sickness.

"Wh-what?"

"What do you mean what? Don't you know what the word 'pregnant' means? I think you would know, isn't that like one of your biggest fears when you fuck a woman? That you'd knock her up?"

His mouth is half open. Kathryn thinks a fly would be able to set up camp there. "I mean, whose is it?"

"Well, it's obviously not yours." She rolls her eyes. "Unless you have the supernatural ability of slipping into my room every night and having your way with me without me realizing it."

"B-but, I mean… what?" he stares at her for a long time and then his expression changes. His apathy returns and he slowly nods to himself. "Ah… so that explains it."

"That explains what?"

"Why you looked like you've packed on a few pounds," he answers innocently.

Kathryn shoves him, "That's not funny!"

"And pretending you're pregnant is?"

"Well if you had seen your expression, you would realize how extremely funny it was."

Pause.

Lips twitch.

Pause.

They smile at each other.

"I missed this," he says.

"Surprisingly, me too."

"Surprisingly?"

"Yes,"

"I guess I'll have to settle for that," he replies. "Who are you here with?"

"You mean, am I seeing someone?"

"Maybe, maybe not." He shrugs.

"I don't think that's any of your business, assface."

"It's truly a mystery why I find you so charming," he sighs.

"You do?"

"Of course," he answers. "You embody every disgusting cliché I hate."

"Such as?"

"Oh, I don't know. The love of my life, my joy, my one and only, the apple of my eye, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, the woman I want to be the mother of my kids…" he frowns. "Actually, no. Not the becoming the mother of my kids part. I don't want to raise a sociopath."

"Why must you constantly play this game with me?"

"What game would that be?"

"You turn everything into a joke, Sebastian. At this point I'm too old and too tired for this. Don't toy with me." She replies. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go."

She walks to the elevator and he follows her like a pest.

"You always make me run after you," he scratches his gross beard.

"It's not my fault. You do the running all by yourself."

"I figured I could use the exercise," he pats his flat stomach.

"Look, we broke up for a reason, remember?"

The elevator opens again and a horde of loud people goes in. Sebastian immediately tenses; he pushes her into a corner and stands in front of her with his hands grasping the railing so he could give her room to breathe. "You okay?" he turns his neck to glance at her. He surveys the crowd, looking annoyed.

They remain silent for a while, and even though there are a lot of people in the elevator, the only smell that registers (for her) is the one coming from his jacket. All woodsy and masculine.

"I'm fine," Kathryn's mouth is so near his neck that if she fell over she would have kissed it. "No need to protect me anymore, Seb. I think I'm fine now,"

"No," he answers stubbornly, his back to her. "You won't be able to breathe,"

Silence.

They forget their argument for a while, being stuck like that, being too close to each other. "I'm fine now," She runs her fingers down his arm until their hands touch. Electricity and heat and her blue-eyed boy.

"You're sure?"

"You can let go," She tells him.

He does. He turns to face her and he looks at her those pretty pretty lashes that mouth surrounded by all that blond shrubbery. "I want you to be okay," he whispers back. "So if you're just holding on to that stupid pride of yours, just don't, all right? I know how you can get. I don't want you to faint or get hurt."

He leans closer and closer and closer until their foreheads almost touch and he's just so comforting just the sight of him the smell that voice that stare it is like finding something beautiful again.

"Do you see me fainting?" She teases, trying to break this _thing_ that had been gone and was now rearing its ugly head like a dirty secret.

"That's because I haven't kissed you yet," he responds, his voice low. Amused. His eyes still so breathtaking after all these years.

Ding.

The elevator stops.

"What makes you think I'll let you?" She answers just as everybody leaves the elevator. She ducks out of his reach and walks to the valet area, taking out the valet card.

"Because you're right," he says. "You're not the only one too old and too tired for this. I am, too."

"Just tell me what you want already,"

"I would think that by now, after having chased you all over the store, that would be quite obvious."

"And you think it would be this easy why?"

"Because I've wasted so much time not wanting you that I'm sick of it. You really want to know why? Because my secretary has an eighteen year old daughter who looks like a Brazilian supermodel and she goes to my office almost everyday to flirt with me but somehow, just somehow, it didn't feel right. Yesterday I woke up with the sudden need to see you."

"You expect me to believe that in a fit of sudden over sentimentality you jumped on a plane here after we broke up a year ago and I don't hear from you the _entire_ _time_? Don't you remember the fact that we both realized it wasn't working out? Don't you remember that fucking day, Sebastian?"

She does. She remembers it very well.

The:

_My love. My Kathryn._

Bodies connected, rocking back and forth. Human cradle of legs and arms and tears.

_You're not the only one who lost something._

The solemn stare, the cold air as the human rocking cradle fell apart. The moving of her fingers, half a wave goodbye, half a plea to stay. The sound of the door closing.

The silence afterwards.

Oh, she remembers.

Exactly.

"Actually, I already had a meeting here so technically I didn't come here just to see you."

"You really do know how to make a woman feel special," She replies dryly, handing the card to the valet attendant.

"Kathryn, I'm not asking you to marry me, okay?"

"What are you asking then?"

"What I'm asking for is a goddamn dinner. Not marriage, not forever, not a disgusting unrealistic happy ending."

"But did you really fuck her? I mean, honestly?" She takes the keys from the valet. "You can tell me. You don't have to make yourself sound like you've been celibate while pining for me."

"What? No, I didn't. And I didn't say I've been celibate," Sebastian answers. "I've had sex after we broke up, but eventually I just stopped. It didn't interest me all that much anymore."

"Why is that again?"

"Because I think I still love you,"

"You _think?_"

"Why? Are you _sure_ you still love me?"

"What do you mean am I sure? Do you see me jumping in your arms?" she scoffs.

"Precisely my point," he says. "We're both not sure, and you know what? That's not a bad place to be in right now."

"What makes you think I still love you at all?" She answers huffily. God, what an arrogant prick.

"Because we wouldn't be talking this long if you didn't love me anymore. You'd just tell me to fuck off."

"Well maybe I like the witty banter, the intellectual stimulation."

"Or maybe you like me," Sebastian smiles.

The car behind Kathryn's is already there, and she's causing a little traffic jam.

"You're willing to bet on that maybe?" She raises her eyebrows.

"I'm willing to bet on something entirely new. Something that only involves just us," he says in a low voice.

And they look at each other they're older and more different but somehow there is something there.

That maybe-something.

--

Fingers tap-tap-tapping lightly on the white tablecloth. Blaine is getting impatient. He glances at his watch and Kathryn comes gliding over sauntering still with that self assured expression on her face like she owns everything.

"Sorry," she says. She kisses Blaine's cheek before sitting down. "I sort of invited someone to join us,"

"Oh?" Blaine asks, his eyebrows going up. Kathryn has had a few boyfriends since her split with Valmont but she hasn't really invited anybody to brunch with them. Kathryn and Blaine's brunch is some sort of unspoken sacred ritual between them.

"Yes," then she looks over his shoulder. "Oh, good. Sebastian's here."

"S-se… what?" Blaine turns around and sure enough, there is his old friend.

"Thank god he shaved that disgusting beard off. A little scruffier and he would have looked like my dad," Kathryn comments.

"What? Wait, does that mean you've…" Understanding creeps up on him and he narrows his eyes at her.

Kathryn only shrugs, and then she smiles apologetically.

"What does this mean?"

"He's leaving again," Kathryn toys with her bracelet. Blaine realizes that her voice is uncharacteristically soft but maybe (he thinks) she doesn't notice that when they started talking about Sebastian her voice got kind of soft. "For work, so I invited him here. His flight leaves in four hours."

"But...?"

"But nothing, okay? I mean, I don't know yet."

"Ah," Blaine nods and finally Sebastian reaches them.

He claps his hand on Blaine's shoulder and grins. "Hey, Tuttle,"

"Valmont," Blaine nods. "Bang any crazy chicks lately?"

Sebastian chuckles and then he glances at Kathryn and they both do this awkward push-pull but she ends up offering her cheek and he kisses it. Blaine sees his hand sort of move as though to hold her hip the way he probably always did but he doesn't follow through with it. Hmm. _Interesting_.

"Hi," Sebastian smiles, and there is a glow on his face when he looks at her.

"Hi back," Kathryn says.

Sebastian takes a seat beside her and the way the look at each other, the slow meaningful glances, the way they talk when they began to discuss what they wanted to order—everything, it makes Blaine want to laugh. He just sits there quietly when Sebastian pretends to look at Kathryn's menu and then when he gets too close he pulls back like he's surprised but you can just tell he's trying really hard to remain indifferent.

You would think they were still teenagers, Blaine muses. Just discovering each other like that.

But then maybe,

Blaine wonders as Sebastian and Kathryn begin talking.

That's just what they're doing.

Discovering each other.

_Again._

His thoughts are interrupted when Kathryn lets out a laugh at something Sebastian said. And then, then, then—

There it is.

That _glow_ on their face, that barely-there but very much visible to someone like Blaine, who knows these two morons like he knows the ins and outs of anal sex (sorry for the crude remark but this is really how he thinks). It is like that glow they have when they are wrapped up in each other and everything just fades away. They had the same look before the Annette Era, only this time it's gentler. More meaningful somehow.

"So what time's your flight again?" Blaine asks.

"Actually," Sebastian replies, "I might stay a while."

His blue eyes are so lit up, so alive, they look like they are on the verge of stepping into a new world.

Blaine realizes this is what Kathryn's eyes look like too.

Without meaning to, a deep, rich laugh escapes his throat. He laughs and laughs, ignoring his friends' confused glances. He laughs at life, at the ridiculousness and wonder of it. He laughs until the waiter comes and says:

"Sir, are you ready to order?"

This sobers Blaine up and he looks at the two.

"Well, you heard the guy," Blaine wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Are you two ready?"

They glance at each other and then at Blaine.

Kathryn folds the menu.

Sebastian scratches his jaw.

"Yes, I am." Sebastian says in his deep, cocky voice. Then he stares at Kathryn. "What about you?"

Kathryn lifts her eyes and she looks at Blaine for a long time. They share an unspoken thing. Blaine sees her hesitance, that speck of vulnerability. But then there is also something he hasn't seen before. A quiet strength. Her hand goes up to touch her necklace, as though remembering Conner. Kathryn has accomplished a lot of things in her life but it is only at that moment that Blaine truly admires her.

Sebastian doesn't miss the hand movement. Blaine watches him watch Kathryn. But he realizes that Sebastian _doesn't look mad_.

She lets go of her necklace.

"I think I am," she finally nods. "I think I'm ready now."

All in all, Blaine thinks as his friends share another one of those irritating secret smiles,

things are _looking up_.

"You know, you have excellent timing," he tells the confused waiter after they have placed their orders.

"Well, timing _is_ very important." Sebastian says. "Don't you agree, Blaine?"

"Indeed." Blaine sips his water.

* * *

A/N: And there you have it. The conclusion. The end. Fin. _Tapos na. _If I haven't already said this, I'll say it again. Thanks for those of you who've been reading. Aren't you glad it's over? I am. I kind of am. And at the same time I'm not, because I'll always have the urge to write Elle and Conner and Ian. They were fun to write.

Anyway, up next: Some outtakes that didn't make the story.


	57. Afterthoughts, Part 1

**Afterthoughts**

Okay, here's the section you may or may not read. It's just a few words on the story, the characters, why and how they turned out the way they did. And a few things that I've realized worked in fanfic writing which I hope helps you guys when you add more and more stories here.

This story was initially meant, I'm sure you know, to be quite short. Actually I've no idea what the hell happened with it. I liked _An Unlikely Story_ very much so I decided to write one in K's perspective. I just kept writing and writing, I had all these moments and words I wanted to put into it. When Conner came into this, I realized I wouldn't be able to keep it as short as I had liked, with the conflict that he created between KS. So anyway, it grew from there. He was so damn fascinating to write. So it stretched on into the second part, and then Elle and Ian popped in and _they_ were fun to write. The reason why I skipped a few years is because I like the idea of sort of giving a contrast between KS as teenagers and as adults.

The ending, which I'm glad most of you liked (at least, I'm _hoping_ that most of you liked it), I did because even though it's been years, as I said, I tried very very hard to keep this as realistic as it can possibly be. I think that no matter who you are, if you're involved with someone, it's never going to go smoothly. It's never really going to be 'forever' (the embodiment of clichés, like what Seb said. :D). There's always the possibility of deterioration, like what happened to them. But I'm still a sucker for happy endings, so it just makes sense to give them time to just figure things out by themselves.

On to the characters:

Kathryn:

Well, we all know her. The narrator in this story, although I do prefer going into Seb's head to be honest. It's so much easier! You see why _An Unlikely Story _is shorter and better than this. Which is weird considering I'm female but whatever. I wanted to give her someone else, and not just a random stock boyfriend, but someone who gets her on a different level. I thought it would be so interesting to have Kathryn being the way she is, become attached to someone else other than Seb.

I'll skip Seb. We all know who and what he's about.

This, of course, leads us to—

Conner:

The problem with fanfics is that readers are already fixed on a certain couple. Duh. Of course, in this case, it was KS. That meant that in fanfiction, the challenge would be to make an original character actually be rooted for by (some of) the readers. Whether it's male (for K) or female (for S). Most characters would either be evil, or abusive, or just a general bitch/jackass. The reader would want KS together because of that. And that's the story.

But then, that's just it. For example. OC hits K. S to the rescue. And then what? What happens next? OC's an abusive, cruel prick. He saves her. They fall in love. She (along with him) helps plot his demise. Or whatever revenge there is. And that's it. End.

Another thing I've noticed is that all men and all women fall all over KS. I mean, sure, they're attractive people and all that, but in trying to make this as real as possible, I wanted Conner to initially deviate from that stereotype. Instead of him chasing after her, I made his intentions vague. As you'll realize from the first few chapters of DC. I wanted the readers to wonder what the hell was going on in his head. I heightened every bit to dig deeper into his character. Each look. Each word. Even then, they were so loaded with meanings, but at the time (before he finally tells her that he does in fact like her), it was just too vague to actually tell. We are instead left with K's thoughts and frustrations, and even their brief moments of almost kissing or almost doing something are just so charged with all those unsaid things, which of course intensified the conflict.

I made him as complex as I can possibly make him. I wish I had used third person POV for this story, because I wanted to go into him, along with the Fox siblings on a different level, but what can you do? That's life. And it would have stretched out even longer if I had done that.

Conner is a big block of gray; he's not really entirely good or entirely bad. He is capable of so much more, as Elle has initially recognized. He always seems to do the right thing, he stayed with his wife even when he wanted Kathryn, he was Kathryn's friend even when he knew he could have had her, and all sorts of generally perfect things he could have done. But then he self mutilates, he can be a coward, and he can actually murder someone.

On to—

Elle:

Elle Fox. My very favorite female villain. Words aren't enough to talk about her. She's a tiny thing, and yet she has extreme anger issues. She likes hitting things. She's a sadistic sociopath who has a very, very screwed up relationship with her brother. She can be malevolent, and yet at the same time there are still sides to her that still make her likable. She really does love Ian, only unlike him, she feels the weight of how wrong things are, so she tries to find someone else. I think part of the reason why she was attracted to Conner was because she already noticed that despite his 'perfection', he also has this side of him that's a bit dark, a bit like Ian, only most of the time he wants to 'save her'. I think Conner had some sort of messed up messiah complex, and with him, she could have him without feeling guilty for it.

On to her poor disturbed brother

Ian:

Ian Fox. He and Elle are a more extreme version of KS, as you can all probably tell by now. He was initially supposed to have a very small role in the story, with Elle being the main villain, but then it just sort of grew from there. Trivia? Ian actually has a wife. I was supposed to mention her in one of his conversations with Kathryn, and then K asks how Elle was handling it, given their situation and stuff. Just one of those conversations that explore I and E's relationship.

**Favorite chapter:**

I don't have one. I have a favorite part though. The scene in the ending of Rest, wherein C, S, and K all just hang out and take a break from things.

…_That frustration with something that should happen but wouldn't,_  
(for Team Seb)

_or something that could happen but shouldn't._  
(for Team Conner)

_I don't know. Pick one. Pick all of them. They're all going to happen. In fact, they're all happening right now, it just depends on how you see it._ (Whether or not you're on Team C or S)

I loved that bit.

**Favorite original character:**

Tough call. Um… out of everyone I've created, my favorite villain's probably Elle. Ian's a close second. I find their relationship really interesting; it's so wrong and perverted and yet so damn fascinating that I just want them to end up together. Even though, you know, they're blood related.

I like the Fox siblings more than the villains in AIE because they have a history independent of KS.

Favorite non-villain. To date, Conner's the most complex one I've written. So I like him the best. He should end up with Amanda St. Clair from Unlikely. That'd be nice. I've written a story about them in my head.

**Favorite line:**

From Elle:

_"…Hate me or love me, I don't care. Admit it. I've freed you. That's all I wanted to do."_

_"Although I'd really prefer it if you loved me. I don't get that enough." She frowns slightly. "At least, not morally."_

That's pretty much all I can say. I'll be posting a few outtakes here and in the next part, depending on how long the ones I chose are. It's taking a while to choose, so bear with me. It's been a hell of a run, guys. Thanks for reading!

--0--

Welcome to the cutting room floor. Outtakes. If I included all the scenes (I even have one that still have Annette and Adrian Vanderbilt into it haha), then it would take a _very long time _to upload. If a scene below was in fact used, I'm sorry about that. I wanted to go and check but sadly I don't have the time to read the 56 posted chapters on FF. Anyway, some of these might feel rough or whatever. But enjoy!

**1.** Conner and Kathryn leave for a week

"Why are you doing this now?" I ask him. "Why, now that we can…?"

Conner looks at me. "We can what?" His voice soft and tired. "Now that we can what, Kathryn?"

"You know what."

"It's not that simple anymore." He puts his head in his hands.

"You want me to leave?"

"Yes. No."

"What kind of answer is that?"

"It's my answer." He sighs, tilting his chin up. His eyes are closed. He opens them, letting me feel the weight of his stare. "You don't understand. I've ruined things."

"Explain it to me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't, okay?"

"So let me get this straight. You'll continue pulling this hot cold shit on me all the time? Saying something and then doing something that completely negates what you said?"

He blinks. Damn those eyes. "Is this because I told you I loved you?"

I don't reply.

"Because I do." He says earnestly. "I really do. Please don't ever think otherwise."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Kathryn, what exactly do you want from me?" He asks.

"A week."

"Excuse me?"

"A week with you. An entire week of you not leaving all of a sudden. Remember? You owe me a trip. Just the two of us."

He frowns. "You're dating Sebastian now."

"And he's dating Selena. So what? I have to do this."

He contemplates on this for a while, becoming still. He stares off into the distance. He barely blinks. Then he's back. He stands up, motions me to come closer. I do. He looks down at me, touching my cheek with his thumbs as he holds me.

"I have to do this." I repeat. "You have no idea how much I—" I cut myself off.

"How much you what, Kathryn?" He prods me, our bodies so close together.

"Need you," I admit.

Conner's silent again. Then I hesitantly reach up. Place my hands on his chest, playing with the cloth of his shirt.

"Okay." He answers, looking at me again, his stare so deep it was like falling into a black hole. "Let's leave together."

**2.** I've thought about killing Conner for the longest time. (I know! I'm sorry!) This was another way.

"Stop kissing me." I order Sebastian, trying to keep a straight face when he does the opposite. I squirm a little in his grasp, but he manages to keep me still. I try to push him off me but he manages to grab my wrists and keep a steady grip on them, effectively rendering me helpless.

"But I like kissing you." He protests, "I missed kissing you and fucking you. I think I'm entitled to about six years' worth of intimate relations?"

"Intimate relations? You sound like my grandmother." I wrinkle my nose, pulling away from him to help myself with a drink. "It's only a little." I add, pouring the brandy into the glass as Sebastian gives me a look. "I promise not to get drunk and hit anybody."

"The only thing you're going to be hitting is my cock with your mouth." He murmurs in my ear mischievously, "So be very careful with how much you drink."

"Sebastian!" I swat his arm. "Quit being a fucking pervert!"

"Quit being such a sadistic slut then."

"Hmm… I'll try." I take a sip and notice his eyes travel to the sheen wetness the drink left on my lips. "Want to taste?"

His mouth touches mine and he licks off the lingering traces of alcohol. "Good."

"I know."

The phone rings and with a groan, he tries to reach for it but he can't move because I was on top of him.

"Let me."

"Nope, I can do it." He grabs my ass and I shriek in surprise. He hoists me up and actually closes the distance carrying me as he takes the phone. "Hello?"

"Who is it?" I inquire, unbuttoning his shirt as he sits us back down.

"Tuttle."

I take the phone from him and he laughs and I laugh and everything is okay. "Blaine, I'm about to fuck my former stepbrother so would you mind calling in an hour?"

I wait for a snarky response but there's nothing. Only silence. That worries me.

"Blaine?"

"Turn on the news, Kathryn."

"Why? Do you have a sex tape online and it's gotten so controversial that it's on the news?"

"Kathryn, please just do it."

"Fine, fine." I huff, grabbing the remote. He tells me the channel and I watch disinterestedly as they show a picture of a plane crash. "So? What about it? People die everyday, it's not exactly…"

He knows. He knows I'm slowly understanding it. Now I just listen to the news. To the news anchor. Oh, fuck please don't let it be that plane—

"It's Conner's plane." Blaine says quietly. "It crashed."

"No!" I cry out and Sebastian stops smiling. He's also watching the news. His jaw tightens.

"Conner." He tells me. "It's Conner, Kathryn."

"Where is he?" I demand, "Where the fuck is he? I need to see him! I need to… Oh, god. I need him. I can't…"

"Hey…" Sebastian consoles me, pulling out his cell phone. "I'll call Isabel, okay? She'll tell me where he is. The reporter said he was undergoing surgery."

"Can I see him?" I ask, my voice not as confident as usual. The doctor nods and we are ushered into the room. I don't notice the millions of flowers and gifts from well wishers, nor do I notice the picture of the Royal Family by his bedside.

No. I see him.

"Conner." I feel lightheaded. He looks so bad.

As he opens his eyes, he adjusts a moment or two. He takes in the dimmed lights and eventually his gaze settles upon me.

"S…?" He groans from his chest when he tries to talk and I take his hand, the one undamaged from the crash and press it against my cheek. He larynx had been crushed.

"He'll be back in a few hours. He's with your mother and Isabel."

He blinks again, then nods. He jerks his head to the notepad and I grab it for him. His hand shakes when he picks up the pen and I feel so helpless that he's like that.

_It hurts._

"I know," I whisper, kissing his hand. "But you'll be okay. They said—"

_No, it won't. It's too bad. Don't lie to me, Kathryn._

"I'm not lying to you! Your sister said…"

_Izzy's lying for Mama. Mama won't believe the doctor so Izzy had to lie. I'm not okay. The… _(He groans again. Pitifully. Painfully. What can I do to make it go away? Please tell me. I'd do anything.) _operation was stopped. Too much… too much damage._

"Don't say that,"

He looks at me steadily, his eyes still as beautiful as ever even though his face was bruised._ Is it okay if you stay the night here?_

"I was going to do that, Conner."

He nods and he smiles. Or winces. He looks like he's in pain again. His hand shakes more.

_Seb won't get mad?_

"I'll kill him if he does."

Then he looks like he's laughing. Laughing and grimacing.

_I'll miss you._

"Well, Madrid isn't all that far. When they transfer you there in a week or so—"

He shakes his head and his eyes close tightly for a few seconds as he undergoes more pain. He squeezes my hand so hard I wince because it hurts, but it's okay because I know that he doesn't mean to hurt me.

"Do you need me to call a nurse?"

He shakes his head and picks up the pen again.

_Can you fit here with me?_

He does the sweetest thing. He actually moves to his side to create a little space for me.

"You…want to fuck?" I ask doubtfully, yet there was a teasing glare in my eyes. "Shame on you, Lord Conner. You're married and I'm in a relationship with your cousin!"

He rolls his eyes and pats the space, frowning. "Cooom…" Then he stops. He groans, his face turning ashen. He picks his pen up.

_Quit being so difficult and get in with me. I get my throat crushed and you're still mindfucking me? Unbelievable, Kathryn._

Then he pauses, glancing at me while I follow his writing.

_That's why I love you._

Something fills my eyes and he looks startled.

_You're crying and I'm not even dead yet?_

"Well if you mention dying again I'm going to hit you with that pad." I retort, climbing his hospital bed. I'm careful where I lay my head on, but in the end I manage to somehow orient myself against him. I stroke his limp curls, kissing his cheek. "Don't you fucking die on me, you asshole. Think of all the affairs we're going to have."

_Last time I checked, my dick wasn't damaged or anything. _His lips twitch into another smile.

"True," I laugh and he brushes away my tears. "But you're going to need more than that to satisfy me."

_I'll settle for a kiss._

"Well if you get better we'll fuck again. I promise. Sebastian will just have to understand."

His chest shakes with silent laughter. I cannot lose him. I cannot lose Conner. Tell me what I can do. Tell me who to talk to. Can I talk to God? Can I ask him to give me Conner? Do I have to choose? Is that it? Is it Sebastian or Conner? Don't make me choose. I love them both. I want them both. I need them both.

_Do you promise?_

"Yes. Yes, I promise. We'll have sex for a week. I'm not letting you leave the room. I'm not letting you go back to Alana and I'm not going back to Sebastian either. He'll understand. He left me for six years, what's a week compared to that? He owes me."

_You have the strangest relationship known to man._

"No. We have the strangest relationship known to man. I can't let you go."

**3.** S finds out K cheated on him with C. And they subsequently go AWWW and make up.

I stare blankly at the wall, my upper back cushioned by the chest while I mull over the events that had transpired.

Would you like the truth?

I enjoyed it. I enjoyed Conner on my bed, inside me, I liked kissing him and I let him touch me in places he had only had the chance to touch once. I came, and during the coupling there was no guilt in both parties. We were consumed with each other so much that there was no room left for Sebastian. I might have loved him in another life, but not this one.

That's the truth.

Here's another one.

I ache. It hurts all over. I feel numbed, as though my orgasm had released every kind of feeling I had and now I was empty.

My door opens and Sebastian comes in. He takes one look at me and he knows. I swear that for a moment, he looked like he was going to cry. But then it changes.

"Did you sleep with him?"

I stare at him, "Yes."

He sucks in a breath and sits down, placing his forehead in his hands.

"Did you enjoy it?"

I pause. His hand brushes past his eyes and now grips his hair tightly. I see him tense and then shake slightly.

"No." I test a lie to see if it works.

He looks at me. I am struck by how hurt he looks.

"Yes." I amend, "I enjoyed it."

"Tell me about it."

He's wringing his hands now.

I sigh, "It doesn't matter."

"Tell me how you fucked!" He snaps. A rubber band that's been stretched too far, he looks betrayed and disappointed and furious. I should be frightened, but I'm not. I still feel numbed. All I want to do is have him. All I want is him.

"Would you like a diagram?"

"Goddamn you, Kathryn." He stands up and paces across the room, his fists tightly balled up.

"We're never going to work out, are we?"

He stops at this. Stops short. Looks at me sadly.

"You're never going to trust me." I reply in a quiet voice, "It was a self fulfilling prophecy. Do you want me to tell you how I fucked your cousin? How he took me roughly, the way I liked it? How he kissed me and sucked my skin? Would you like to know how he fit? What about how big his cock was? Would you like me to tell you that I gave him a blow job and how he went down on me?"

He's breathing heavily. He's trying to hate me but he can't, all I know is that I'm hurting him. He takes each word as though it is a punch, a slap, a knife slice. I want to do more harm, I hate him for hurting me. I hate him for everything.

"Stop." He talks, his voice straining. He makes himself a drink. The ice tinkles as he hand continues to shake.

"No!" The feeling slowly returns, but as it does I find myself realizing I'd rather have the numbness. I'd rather have Conner with me, I'd rather be touched by him, be fucked and filled by him to make it go away. Now it begins again, this feeling. It hurts. Badly. I feel like crying. I feel like lying face down on my pillow and screaming. It's never supposed to be this difficult, but it is. I think it's too much.

"You wanted to know, so I'm telling you. Isn't this what you wanted? More fuel to cement your view of me being a whore? Is this it? This is what you're expecting, so I'm giving it to you. I fucked Conner twice, he had me on all fours and sideways. I straddled him for the second time and rode him while he licked my—"

"Stop it!"

I jump off my bed, striding over him. Now he's closing his eyes. He's given up on trying to turn to alcohol to relieve the tension. I've stopped trying that hours ago.

"You love me, you say you do. But you can't accept it. Who I am, what I do… You can't. I'm tired, Sebastian. All you know is all you want to know… the details… Conner… It isn't about that… You just… You ask the wrong questions…"

"Everything about us is wrong." He fires back, his voice thick with fury. "Can you blame me for not trusting you? We had one fucking fight, Kathryn! One! And you go fuck someone else!"

I push him, angry tears filling my eyes. He stumbles back but his reflexes make him grip my arms to steady himself.

"Why do you want to know things that'll hurt you?" I reply, my voice is getting louder. "You want to know what happened and how it happened… I'm not going to lie to you. I enjoyed my time with him, I don't regret sleeping with him."

He releases me and takes a step backward. His face was pained and I can imagine that his expression only mirrored mine.

"You don't want to know everything else… What I felt afterwards… Or why I haven't moved since Conner left… you only assume the worst of me, and it's difficult to make you see otherwise, that even though you know that there are things I'm capable of, you limit your thinking to that. You're narrow-minded and unfair, you don't know what I'm thinking. What I'm feeling. You only assume I don't feel guilt or anything else because it's easier that way. It's easier to hate me or to be suspicious of my actions."

"I can't do this." He replies, looking like I was torturing him. Maybe I was. His voice shakes as much as his hand. "I just… This isn't working out…"

"I felt nothing afterwards. Just numbed. Does that help? Does that make any sense? No? How about this?"

I'm crying now. Motherfucker, I'm actually crying in front of him. The tears flow freely, as if something has just burst and I'm powerless to stop it.

"I want you. Just you."

Then it happens. I break.

I begin sobbing, now the pain is evident. It comes through me in shockwaves, and I hold on to him tightly, my shoulders are shaking from the effort.

"I'm sorry." I crumple his shirt with my fists, "I just wanted you."

There is no hesitation on his part right then and there, and he quickly wraps his arms around me just as tightly. Like he wants me to stay there.

--

The sleep itself was uneventful since I didn't have any dreams. As I open my eyes and try to focus somewhat groggily on where I am, the memories of what had happened the previous night come back to me. As it does, the feeling of Sebastian's soft sheets against my naked body make me feel drowsier. The sky is still dim, a dark blue that could only mean it was an inhuman hour to be awake but I realize with a start that there's a man standing in front of an open closet, clad in only a white towel that he'd wrapped around his narrow waist. Mmm. I'm not tempted at all to let him know that I had woken up. In fact, I prop myself up against a thick pillow that smelled of Sebastian. His movements were soundless in nature, probably also trying hard not to wake me up. With an amused smile I realized he remembered that if I were woken up earlier than I had wanted to wake up, I would most likely be in a foul mood. His effort to ensure that I remained in an undisturbed slumber assured him a very good reward from me later.

He scratches his head absentmindedly, the droplets of water from his bath gleaming on his skin. I wanted to taste it.

His hand pulls out a black sweater and then a blue button down long sleeved shirt, holding it up with both hands. He's always been meticulous with his clothing. If he didn't have the reputation he did I would have thought he was gay.

"I like the blue one on you."

He turns around and would you look at that… The view was even better at the front. He gives me a rueful smile, his eyes sheepish in nature. As his expression becomes more serious, the amusement lessens and the intensity replaces it quickly.

He's staring at me. For some reason I feel different. There was something different in this room today. It's like a déjà vu. Like I'm living it…This feels strange and different. But not alarming in any way, how can I explain it to you? It's like I'm in a place I've known all my life and yet it's still as foreign as the concept of genuine charity.

"Come here." I talk before my brain gets the best of me. I slide back under the covers and turn on my side, watching him slip into his boxers. "Come back to bed."

He tosses his towel and it lands neatly on a nearby chair before selecting the black sweater just to spite me. It makes him look older, but not necessarily worse. I like it on him, but then again, what doesn't he look good in?

He gives me another grin, this time it's real. His teeth show as he smiles at me, there is warmth in his eyes. In him. His cheeks are slightly flushed like he's been thinking of something naughty that he's embarrassed to say. As Sebastian climbs into bed with me, indulging my very early morning whim, he actually spoons me. I'm not kidding. If you feel nauseous or if you were like me who absolutely feels loathsome of such acts, then you'd best leave and never return to this story.

I feel his soft mouth at the back of my neck as he gives me a kiss that is both adoring and gentle while his arm wraps around my waist.

"Go back to bed." His voice sounds slightly hoarse. It always does when he lacks sleep. It feels good having a warm body I actually like pressing against me. More warmth for the blood.

I shake my head slightly. Petulantly. Defiantly, like I am a child who willfully defies her father just because she can. He laughs softly at this, and I hear him breathing quietly for a few minutes. I play with his fingers, the mere memory of what those fingers had done to me several times over makes me flush the lightest shade of red as well.

The blood comes to my face as an indication that I do indeed have it. That I am indeed human.

I know what's different now.

I'm happy.

-

**These are just a few scenes, I'm still in the process of choosing the ones that don't suck, I'll post the rest up pretty soon as well. Even though I never got to use these, I hope you guys still liked it. :)**

**Anybody up for a third part of this? Oh, you know. They're married, Elle comes back, and all sorts of disturbed twisted characters pop up as well, you never know...  
**

**Kidding. Am I crazy? Nope. Well, maybe a little. But not that crazy.**


	58. Afterthoughts, Part 2

**4. Elle kills Melanie (the one they fired)**

Dread fills me now, and I can almost feel the coldness of the barrel even though the gun was not pointed at me. Sometimes we push people too hard too fast, and we don't realize that they can snap. As Melanie Foster cocks the gun, the clicking sound of the safety coming off makes me sick. She is ranting now, the weak little blonde has been disfigured and mutilated by our harsh words. Fear, or something similar to it, makes its presence known. I can only watch in horror as Elle's beautiful face runs the risk of being penetrated by the bullet our poor victim seems to have the intention of firing.

"You think you're better than everybody else!" Melanie barks, the hatred in her voice was unrecognizable. The sweet Southern accent gone.

Elle's eyes meet mine, and I am stunned at the strange calm in them. Today, they are gray. Her smile surprised even Melanie. "I don't think that, Melanie. I know it."

"You deserve to be fucking shot, you bitch."

Again, Elle blinks. The same, controlled calm frustrates Melanie and astonishes me. She steps forward, pressing her own forehead against the gun as though it was the forehead of a lover. Her voice was in whispers, as breathy as it had ever been. When her eyes closed, her entire face changed for the briefest of moments. Her mouth quivers, a mental trigger of something in her head.

"Keiko." Was all she said, sounding young. Lost.

But then it is over, because as soon as her eyes open, she is the same calm, confident Elle again. "Do i,." She taunts her assailant softly. "You know you can't, and yet you know you should."

"Shut the fuck up!" Melanie is shaking now. Elle is growing stronger, bigger before our eyes.

"Do it," Elle hisses, her eyes glowing with strange pleasure. Almost monstrous and malevolent that it felt like she was the one who held the gun on Melanie. "Because you know what I'm capable of. You know I'll fucking break your neck if you don't do it, do you think you'll get the upper hand again?"

I turn away, feeling nauseous. I jump, a strangled scream stuck in my throat when the gun went off. I expect Elle to be dead now, but as I look at them, she remains intact. Melanie had fired at the ceiling.

"Coward." Elle taunts gleefully.

"Shut up!"

"Elle, shut the fuck up!" I intervene.

"How nice of you to care." Elle retorts, teasing as though we were just having a drink and discussing Derrick or Conner. "But I have it under control, thanks."

"No, you don't. You're agitating her."

"She's trying to control me. Nobody fucking controls me."

"I don't think this is the time to be power hungry, Elle."

"Shut up, both of you!" Melanie screams. We both hear the sirens from the cops below.

"Just apologize to her or something!" I yell at her, but Elle shakes her head as though I was missing the point.

"Do you think you can frighten me?" My insane dark haired friend continues gently, rubbing her smooth skin against the gun. "Make me cower and apologetic for stating the truth?"

"Y-you should be begging right now, bitch!"

A smooth hand went up, caressing the gun. Elle presses it harder against her face.

"Shoot me." She tells Melanie. "Because if you don't, I'm going to kill you."

"You're insane!" Melanie gasps.

Again, her eyes seem to smolder. Gray flames dance in her gaze. "Yes, I'm insane. I don't feel anything. I can strangle you right now and not feel sorry about it. I'm telling you the truth, Melanie. I don't have a conscience. There's something wrong with me, something you should be very afraid of."

"Don't touch me!" Melanie screeches just as Elle's hand reaches out for her hand.

"Kill me."

"Jesus!" Melanie whispers, seeing something in her eyes that I could see as well. A hidden something, the endless depths of a gray vacuum that paved the way for no soul.

It was at this sight that she makes the mistake of hesitating. A split second. An single blink. She pulls the gun away from Elle's forehead.

I had always known that Elle was fast, having seen her in practice. But this was something else, there was even something inhuman about the way she moved. She gripped Melanie's wrist and dislodged the gun from her hand. The gun clatters uselessly on the floor and I hide behind her chair in case it might go off. It didn't. She was disarmed and of no threat anymore. It should have been enough.

Melanie is sobbing again, back to the pathetic harmless moron she had been. But now their roles have changed. She cowers before Elle, who stares at her with the same dead expression that had given me chills.

"Kathryn," Elle tells me quietly, yet her eyes remain on Melanie. "I'm about to do something that you might not want to see. If you think you won't be able to lie to the cops, then get out of my office."

Her voice grew softer, as though she addressed a sister instead of a friend. But then I couldn't move. Something compelled me to stay there, so I remained quiet.

Elle glances at me. It was quick, but she knew I wasn't going anywhere.

"Fine," She sighs. She had Melanie pressed up against the glass window now, and I was expecting her to break Melanie's arm or at least do something that could seriously damage her.

"You should have killed me." Elle says quietly, as though she was truly sorry for this sad fact.

She kicks Melanie. The glass breaks. Melanie grabs something, and Elle winces as though she was hurt. Her small hand touches the back of her neck. Other than that, it is the only emotion I saw flicker over her face. The rest of Melanie's demise is watched through uninterested gray eyes.

"I'm not going to threaten you to lie for me." Elle turns around, looking at me. She picks up a pen and casually curls her fingers around it before stabbing her shoulder. The blood oozes out easily, staining her clothing. "But in case you're willing to do that, then there was a struggle between her and I. I was only protecting myself. That's what happened."

I can't say anything.

"If you'll excuse me, that bitch got my necklace."

She withdraws the bloody pen, takes out her handkerchief, and applies pressure to the wound. I watch as she eventually reappears on the ground floor, and while people are wincing at the horrible, bloody sight of a corpse, Elle approaches it without hesitation. She pries the necklace from Melanie's broken hand and pockets it before turning to talk to the police.

**5. At Conner's farewell party (when he was going back to his family). S and K have another one of their intense talks:**

I find Sebastian in Conner's room, staring at the framed photograph of Conner and me. The look in his eyes wasn't resentment, but rather, a mild curiosity. The photo had been taken after he'd left, on my twenty-second birthday. Conner had taken me out, and in a fit of playfulness, had set the camera on timer. We were both laughing, I was smiling at him and he was trying to get the icing out of my hair from the cake he'd bought me. I had a similar copy in my place.

"You know, there's a woman looking for you outside." I begin conversationally, trying to gauge his mood. "She wants to fuck you."

He doesn't smile back. His eyes cut back to me and he only stares openly.

"I hate that he's in places I can't be." He tells me softly, none of the teasing tone he usually has when we talk. "Like in that picture."

"Well, I would have sent you an invitation to my twenty-second birthday party if I hadn't been busy moving on."

He's quiet again.

"Come on, it's in the past. Forget it, okay?

"You keep bringing it up." Sebastian answers. "You keep reminding me of that time, how can I forget it? I always think about it, and it doesn't help that you're always saying things like that."

"Sebastian, not tonight."

"Yes, tonight." He insists, pulling my arm gently as though to stop me from walking away. "I hate that he's inside you all the time. I hate how you look at him, that you're going to spend the night with him because you want to take everything you can with him tonight."

"How did you—"

"How did I know?" He smiles humorlessly. "I know because I know you. If he hadn't been married, Saxton would've never stood a chance."

"Can we not go through this again? Please?"

"I always think about you." Sebastian continues, ignoring me. "I'm not going to deny it. I love Selena, but you're inside me the way Conner's inside you."

"Let me go."

"You're inside my head, Kathryn. You never left, even when I left you."

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

His face inches closer, his mouth so near mine. "See for yourself." He whispers, leaning until he was kissing me.

That warm, full mouth. When he pulls away, there is no lingering taste of alcohol on my tongue. He anxiously studies my reaction, waiting.

"Don't do this to me." I back off, my heart pounding. "Not again, Sebastian. You can't anymore."

"Don't you see?" He replies. "It was real."

And with that, he leaves.

**6. Seb and K in Spain, when he remembers that they did in fact sleep together.**

I lie awake and am actually on the verge of falling asleep when my door suddenly opens. The silhouette is fairly easy to identify, the narrow waist, the broad shoulders, and the limp. It's Sebastian.

I sit up and glance at him curiously, "What are you doing here?"

"Be quiet." He says, climbing into bed with me. He's looking at me so intensely I couldn't look away, nor could I start some sort of argument to get him to react properly. I can only watch. He peels the blankets off me and tugs the hem of my nightgown upwards, staring at the exposed flesh hungrily.

"Sebastian, I can't—"

I stop talking the moment he places his hands on the bruises. His thumb on the front, and the other fingers are placed on the sides. Like how he did before.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Quiet." He answers, staring at his hands.

"It's not going to heal even if you stare at it for an entire hour."

He slowly removes his hands and I can see his eyes close. His palms travel upwards to my ribcage and up my breasts. I suck in a breath. My heart's beating so fast now. His fingers touch my face, my mouth, and my cheeks. He cups my face and leans in closer with his eyes half open, smelling my hair.

"Stop that."

He stops just when our lips are about to touch and he just opens his eyes. He sees me. He really, really sees me like he's never seen me in the past.

"Being inside you is the best feeling in the world."

My mind shuts down.

"What?" I reply hoarsely, my throat has dried up.

"I knew it felt different… I knew it… Because it's you."

He bridges the remaining gap between our lips and I freeze in stunned silence before my body takes over for my lack of rational thought. I kiss him back with equal hunger, feeling like I did that night only better.

"Kathryn?" He asks, slightly out of breath when the kiss finally breaks.

"What?"

"Why did you let me forget?"

"It couldn't happen."

"Why not? Didn't you want it to happen? Did I… Did I force you? Oh, fuck. That's why you have bruises? Did I force you? Did I hurt you or something?"

"Sebastian, if you had forced me trust me when I say you would have never gotten out of Colombia alive."

He relaxes, lying beside me. He takes my hand and kisses it. I don't pull away.

"Then you liked it?" He asks hopefully and I can only smile.

"It was fine."

Now he looks insulted. "Fine? Just fine?"

"What do you want? A rave review published on The New Yorker?"

"That would be nice."

"As if your ego needed further inflating."

**7. S leaves K for the female S (duh). K goes to C.**

Bam! Bam! Bam!

A bewildered Conner opens the door and I storm inside, still furious and shaking. He follows me without a word and hands me a glass of water.

"Breathe." He tells me calmly. I follow. Eventually I do calm down.

"He left me to go to Selena. I saw her today. She's fucking gorgeous and I want to hate her but I can't. I really can't. I tried talking to her but Sebastian called her up and I think he told her to leave… then I followed him… and he was with her. Now I keep thinking if that's where he was all those times he wasn't with me and I just… I just… I fucking hate him."

"Alright…" He rubs my back soothingly and his hand is so familiar that I wanted him to suddenly slam me against the wall and fuck my brains out. "It's okay, Kate. Just let it out."

"Fuck me."

_With pleasure._

He shakes his head slowly, "Kathryn, it's not going to be answered by that…"

I slip my hands underneath his shirt, caressing his pectorals. He just sits there and looks at me with solemn eyes. Dark long lashes. My perfect obsession.

"We can't. We said we wouldn't anymore."

"But I want to." I slip my hand into his pants. His breathing quickens. His cock hardens. I lick his neck. I nibble his ear. He's not returning my advances. Hot Conner. Cold Conner. My Conner.

He pulls my hands away from him and grabs my shoulders.

"Kathryn, we can't."

I feel humiliated and crushed. He fucking turned me down. Another Valmont fucking turned me down. I glare at him hatefully, masking my bruised ego.

"Fuck you." I get up and leave, "If you're not going to fuck me someone else will."

"Kathryn, wait…"

"I'M TIRED OF WAITING!"

"Baby, I can't believe it took you this long to—"

Carmine shuts up when I start ripping his clothes off. He eagerly lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him. We stumble into his bedroom and he fucks me senseless.

Blue eyes, dark hair. Conner Sebastian Valmont.

I cry when I come. Carmine doesn't know what to do so he leaves me to go snort a line. He invites me, but I decline. I sit up, covered in his blue silk sheets.

I call him.

"Please come get me."

"Where are you?"

Carmine lets him in and leads him to the bedroom. I hadn't changed yet. I feel so tired that I haven't moved. I see his fists clench and he frowns at Carmine, who holds up his hands.

"Hey, man. She just started crying all of a sudden. I didn't do anything."

He doesn't reply. His eyes soften when I hold up my arms.

"I'll give you the sheets back." He tells Carmine stiffly as he starts gathering my clothes. When he has them, he comes to me.

"I'll take care of you." He whispers, "you're safe."

He carries me to his car. I hold on tightly the entire time.

When we reach his room, he settles me on the bed.

"I'll run you a bath."

"Thank you."

--  
While I immerse myself in the warm water, I hear a knock. He comes in. He looks at my naked body. I feel his intense gaze penetrate my walls.

"Please." I hold out my hand.

He takes it. He caresses my face and I kiss him. This time he doesn't pull away. With strong arms, he carries my dripping body out the bathtub and on the bed.

When he is finally inside of me, I force him to look at me. I cup his face in my hands.

_"You called me Sebastian… You were kissing me and playing with my hair while we were… You called me Sebastian. It's not that I'm not willing to fight for you, Kate. You know it isn't… I love you, and I think you love me. But I don't like sharing. What I want from you, you'll never be able to give."_

"Conner." I say his name and his dark eyes seem to glimmer. "It's just Conner."

**8. Christmas with Conner and Elle**

It's snowing.

She slips her little hand into mine and her neck tilts back, her mouth open and with her blue gray eyes closed, as she tastes the falling snow. I watch as it falls on her tongue and melts in the warmth, dying a sweet death.

"This is the best time of the year." Elle announces, opening her eyes to smile at me. "I don't even feel cold at all. Isn't that strange?"

I stuff our clasped hands in my pocket and she smiles wider, leaning against my shoulder as we continue walking. "Yes, it's strange. But you're strange, so I'm not surprised."

She laughs. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know." We had been walking for an hour now. "Isn't that strange?"

"You're a strange man, Conner." Elle replies, stopping in front of a jewelry store. The diamonds seem to reflect beautifully in her eyes, like she's staring at stars. "Oh, this is nice."

"Are you hinting for a Christmas gift?" I tease, squeezing her hand.

The door of the store opens and then she steps out. My hands suddenly feel very warm.

It was Kathryn.

The way her eyes narrowed really got through me, they were a dark jade, growing darker by the second. The way she looked at me though, the way her mouth pouted and quivered for the merest of millimeters…

"Kathryn, what a nice surprise." Elle says demurely. Did she plan this meeting? Well, why wouldn't she? There was after all a side to her that was very much capable of this. Elle fucking Fox, a heartless conniving bitch.

"Yes." Kathryn replies, her tone equally light. Then she looks at me, hurt and disapproving. This was the first time she had seen Elle and me together. "Nice surprise indeed."

I let go of Elle's hand. "Listen, Kate… can I talk to you?"

"Go ahead." Elle says breezily, entering the store.

"What do you want?" She asks, crossing her arms. "Oh, wait. It's pretty clear what you want, right?"

Despite the paleness of her cold skin, her lips still remain pink. That mouth. I had kissed that mouth so many times before. Especially that time in the hotel, at the elevator. She had been taken aback but she latched on to me so tightly it had been painful.

"We're not going to work out anymore." I say. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that, but it's over, Kathryn. We're over."

Oh, fuck. The expression on her face then! Fucking agony. Her cold expression wavers and she's back where she was when Sebastian left, when she started crying after months of not doing anything.

"Thank you for clearing that up, Conner." Kathryn answers stiffly. "Goodbye."

"No, please."

"Please? Please what?" She barks, and then laughs out loud. "Goddamn it. I've already said this before. Please what? Please stop? Please take my clothes off?"

"Kathryn, I fucking love you, okay?" I argue in a low voice, sighing. "That's the truth. But it's over now. I've fucked everything up and now we're never gonna work out. So please, just please don't look at me like that."

"You… you…" She slaps me, her eyes filling with tears that we both know she wouldn't let fall. "You're a fucking bastard. You're worse than Sebastian. Just leave me alone, okay? He's picking me up here and I'd rather that he didn't see us together."

The stinging feeling gets numbed by the cold. I stuff my hands in my pockets, slouching. I'd kill for a cup of coffee right now. "Okay." I answer, feeling hollow. "If that's what you want."

"What I want is for you to tell me why you're doing this!" She gesticulates furiously. "What I fucking want is for you to tell me what you fucking want! You can't keep pulling this shit on me, you know I have to know. So what if we're never going to end up together? So what if I end up with Sebastian? If you don't tell me, I'm going to think about it. It's going to fucking haunt me, Conner. I won't be able to stop thinking about you, even if I don't want to."

I reach out to fix her scarf for her but she slaps my arm away.

"If that happens, then it won't be fair to us. To me and Sebastian, or me and whoever the fuck I do end up with. You can't do that to me." Kathryn finishes, angrily rubbing her eyes.

"Kathryn, you don't—"

"I don't what? Understand?" Kathryn rants. "Here we go again. I'll tell you to make me understand and then you won't tell me a goddamn thing, will you?" She touches my arm, the ice in her eyes melting. "One last chance. Tell me where we can talk; I'll meet you anywhere, anytime. Just talk to me. Please."

"I-I can't."

She snatches her hand away. "Fine. Fuck you, Conner. I choose him."

She could have slapped me ten times and it wouldn't have hurt as much as what she said. Then again, that's what I wanted, right? So great work, Conner. You fucking lost her.

"Kathryn? What the fuck is going on here?"

We both take a step back from each other like we'd been caught doing something wrong. Sebastian's already scowling as he gets out of his car. Kathryn shakes her head slightly at me, her eyes wide and imploring. I get it. I'm the dirty little secret. We all have secrets after all.

"Hey, Seb."

"Hey." He says, not sounding like he's glad to see me at all. Which he probably isn't. He gives Kathryn a kiss, taking longer than usual. He gives me a look that plainly tells me to fuck off.

"Come on." Kathryn tells him, pulling his arm.

"No." He looks at her, then at me. More at me. "Have you been seeing her again?"

"Sebastian!" Kathryn's practically dragging him away now. "You can't honestly think—"

He shrugs her away. "I was talking to Conner."

"No." I reply, glancing at Kathryn. "We're over, Seb."

"See?" She tells him. "I told you, didn't I? Why couldn't you trust me?"

And he actually apologizes to her. They walk away their bodies near against each other and I'm left there with the snow melting on my numb skin. Elle comes out and she strokes my hair lovingly. I get it. This is where I belong now. I'd rather have that than have Kathryn know what had happened and then look at me like I was some kind of soulless bastard.

Crazy thing is, I still don't regret that they're dead. The manner of their death, maybe. I regret that. But the actual demise, not really. Perhaps something faster, like a gunshot wound to the head. I tell Elle this later on and she only smiles that small-toothed grin of hers when I ask her if she thinks I'm a bad person.

She says no, I wasn't.

Then I tell her but that's only because you're a heartless monster.

And then she takes my clothes off and her tongue flickers over the healing wounds on my back and her hands are doing pleasurable things to me that make me shelve Kathryn's disappointed expression at the back of my head.

"Maybe so," she replies, kissing my neck. "But isn't that why you're with me in the first place?"

I don't get to reply because as lithe and catlike as she is in her graceful movements, she's suddenly on my lap facing me and her eyes are so gray it's unreal how they can change colors.

"I adore you." She whispers reverently, grinding her hips against mine. "Do you know how wonderful it is that I get to finally have something I want the way I really, really want it and not feel guilty or dirty at all?"

"What does that mean?" Elle always says things like this. Most of the time I try to understand her and I fail.

"It means I'm thanking you." She presses her lips on my mouth. They're cold, her body, and her mouth. Like a bag of melted ice in my arms. "You've liberated me."

And I kiss her back and feel her body quiver at each spot my fingers have mapped out, trying to get used to her because she's tinier than Kathryn and the curves are still somewhat foreign to me. Despite everything, the welts on my back burn sweetly at her touch, like she knows exactly how to heal them.

**9. In another lifetime, when Kathryn chooses Conner:**

I can see Elle with him. In my mind's eye, she's wrapped in his arms and their physical perfection together is astounding. He's marble and she's crystal water, the perfect fountain. I see them in bed. I see him visiting her at work, or her doing the same to him. Sometimes he'd hold her hand and she'd let him even though she wasn't the hand holding type. Because she's as smitten with him as he was with her. And soon they're inseparable.

And it makes me want to scream.

I'm running. In actuality. Going to his office, hoping he's there. Hating myself. Hoping. Hating. Sorry. I walk briskly past his secretary and open the door to find him on the phone.

"Don't be with Elle. I love you."

Conner frowns, taken aback. He makes an excuse to hang up the phone, and when he does, he narrows his eyes as though he can check whether or not I was drunk or stoned.

"Sorry?" He asks, standing up. He gets me a glass of water even before I asked. He rubs my back. "Kathryn, are you feeling all right?"

"It took me a long time." The water feels good as it slides down my throat, only serving to fuel the fire inside me. "But it's you. You've always been there."

"Does Sebastian know you're here?" I hate how he has the ability to mask his emotion. His voice is even, controlled. Like I had just told him the weather was great.

"No."

"He's the guy for you, Kate. Not me. We've always known that."

I shake my head. His words cut through me like shards of ice piercing my skin. "He was. But we're different people now."

"No." His hands rest on my shoulders firmly, looking straight into my eyes. "He is. I get it though, I'm sorry that it's difficult for you to see me go out with your friend, and like I said, there's always going to be something. I get jealous sometimes, too. When you're with him. But it doesn't mean that we're supposed to leave who we're with."

"It does mean that!" God, he's so gorgeous. All concerned and intense.

"No, Kathryn. It doesn't."

"Look, just tell me if you don't want me, okay? You don't have to go through all the bullshit of trying to convince me that it's not going to be good for me. That's what it is. Bullshit. You are good for me. Not good for me the way Derrick was, because I was only with him because he made me feel safe. You're better. You're good for me because you really know me, and because I want you so much."

Dark eyes filled with wonder. He smells wonderful.

"Blaine was right. Sebastian and I do get off on this whole forbidden relationship thing. We're always going for the extremes. He left me for Annette. I was fucked up. He left me for Selena. It almost ruined my life. But he came back both times, and it was great. I think one of us always has to do something wrong for it to be that good, and I'm tired. He's always leaving me. Even if he promises that he wouldn't, one of us will at some point. That's just how Sebastian and I are. When you were gone, I kept thinking of you. We don't have that kind of relationship. With you, everything's just fine. I don't even get bored."

Conner doesn't speak for a while. His hands slide down my arms and they slip underneath my hands, holding me by the hips.

"Be sure." He answers, urgent despite his soft voice. "You have to be really sure."

"I'm not. But I'm here. That has to mean something." I fiddle with the knot of his tie. "So what do you say? Can we finally try this? I'd really like to."

Again, he remains silent. Thoughtful, as though going through a mental list in his head. Kathryn? Check. Words of encouragement? Check. He's so still. Like he's been frozen. A real marble statue. My fingertips graze the carved features of his face. He's so beautiful.

"Conner?"

Then he blinks. Rouses. Looks at me like I had just woken him up.

"I love you." He tells me. He states this matter-of-factly.

"I know." I hesitate. Still touching his marble face, unfreezing him with my warmth. "I know you do."

Then he's kissing me. He's a wonderful kisser. Soft and intense at the same time. And I'm kissing him back with everything I had. Like something inside me has been unlocked, and whatever wounds I had were healed. He touches me all over, and I let him. Oh, god, I let him.

Someone's nuzzling me.

I wonder where I was… oh wait. I know where I am.

"Wake up." Comes a very sexy voice. Him. Mmm. Him.

I smile through closed lids, kissing his cheek as he slides his palm over my stomach.

"Conner." Even the name sounds right, coming from my mouth. "Conner. Conner. Conner."

He laughs. How is it possible that even his laugh was so goddamn hot? All raspy and deep. Sending shivers down every nerve in my body. Making the heat between my legs grow.

"Kathryn. Kathryn. Kathryn." He replies, stroking my hair.

"My Conner." I finally open my eyes, watching him smile again. How I've spent all these years never being with him was beyond comprehension. I tousle his curls. "My boyfriend."

"Oh… I'm your boyfriend, huh?" He teases, all glorious, six feet two inches of him (although that didn't matter when we were in bed). "That sounds surreal."

"You don't like it?"

He touches my nipple. Plays with it. The unbearable ache between my thighs now. Then he kisses it. Just a peck. Sweetly, his dark eyes half closed.

"I like it very much, being your boyfriend." He replies. "Lying in bed with you, not having to worry about anything except on how to get off this bed because I don't want to."

I bite my lip when he starts kissing my breasts. "I wouldn't mind being chained to this bed."

He looks up mischievously. "I wouldn't mind chaining you to this bed."

"Only if I could have my way with you afterwards." I run my nails down his back, passing over the scars. Taking away the ghosts of his past as he took mine.

"That sounds promising."

"Oh, it is." I stroke his cock, feeling it swell up and harden. Hearing his breathing grow faster. Loving every second of this. I flip him over so I'm on top, caressing him. Taking my time. He watches me, this demi-god.

"Fuck…" He hisses, his hips moving in a thrusting motion against my hand as if on instinct. "The things you do to me…"

"Nope." I straddle him, sighing as he enters me. "The things you do to me."

Then we really didn't talk. We couldn't talk, aside from:

"Oh, fuck…"

"Harder."

"Deeper."

I'm rocking against him, taking him as deep as he can go. I think that somewhere in the middle of all this, I tell him how long I've wanted him, and that maybe it was what I really wanted all along. Then I keep saying his name. Conner. Conner. Conner. My Conner. My boyfriend.

And then the door opens and Sebastian stands there gaping at us. A spare key to my door in his hand. It's déjà vu all over again.

Conner's eyes snap open, suddenly alert. He covers me up with a sheet. A futile act, I wanted to tell him. It's not like Sebastian hasn't seen me naked. Sebastian stands there, frozen the way Conner was earlier. I leave Conner's lap, pained at the sudden emptiness.

"We need to talk." I tell Sebastian. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this, but please don't leave. I'd like to speak with you."

He nods, as if dazed. "I'll be in the living room."

I put my robe on, and then head to the bathroom to clean myself up. Conner watches me.

"I'll just talk to him for a while, okay?" I tell my boyfriend. Boyfriend. I want to smile at that. I can't believe he's my boyfriend. I mean, it took so long for it to happen.

"Of course." He says easily, though his eyes are clouded over. Worried Conner. Handsome Conner. I erase his worry. His frown, by kissing him.

"This is what I want. Right here, in this room." I say. "This is what I really want now. I'll come back, don't worry."

Our eyes meet, an unspoken trust forming. Sebastian and I never had that. It was too late to form such a thing now, and strangely enough, I was fine with that.

I leave Conner and find Sebastian with a drink in hand.

"Sebastian, I'm really sorry you had to see that."

"You probably planned it."

"I didn't!" I insist, sitting down. "I swear I didn't."

"Do you… I mean…" He's having trouble with finding the right phrase. He looks at his glass.

I nod. "Seb… you know we've been over for a while now. We just didn't want to admit it."

"Yeah, but… it just… I mean… we were supposed to end up together, you know? With everything that's happened…"

"I know."

We're quiet for a while.

"But we loved each other, didn't we?" He asks. "I'd like to think we did."

I risk touching his wrist. He doesn't pull away. "We did." I agree. "But a lot of things have happened. It couldn't have gone back to how it was, or how it should have been if things had been different. There's no point in it."

His hand rests on top of mine. "Yeah." He says, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "If I could, I would've done things differently."

"I know, Sebastian. Don't worry about it." I lean against his shoulder, rubbing my cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt.

"I'm sorry for what happened to us."

"I'm not." I stroke his hair. "It was real, wasn't it? So I'm not sorry."

He stares at me, barely blinking. "You're really happy with Conner?"

At the mere mention of that name, a smile immediately appears on my face. The biggest smile in the world, just remembering him. Just knowing he was in my room waiting for me.

"Yes." I answer. "He's the one, Seb."

He mulls over this for a while, before removing his hand on top of mine. He looks at me searchingly before taking my face in his hands. Looking at me the way I'd seen him look at Selena.

"Make sure he takes care of you." He says quietly. "Or I'll kill him."

I smile. Then he kisses me. Sebastian's kissing me. And it's beautiful. Like kissing someone important to me.

"I'm gonna go." He says after I pull away. "Travel for a while, get a different perspective, you know?"

I nod. "You never could stay still." I tease him, wrapping my arms around myself. "Call me whenever you want. Or write. Send a postcard. Anything. Just don't disappear off the face of the world without talking to me."

He laughs. "Love you, Kate."

"I love you too, Seb." I say, like he's my big brother. Like when we were children who never knew the weight of those words.

When he's gone, I get myself a glass of water and glance at my bedroom door just to see Conner peeking out.

"Oops. Sorry. I just wanted to check if you guys were done."

I hold out my hand. "Yeah, we're done. Come here."

"Let me put on my boxers first. I'm naked."

"Ah, even better."

He smirks. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"Oh ho! Arrogant, aren't we?"

He comes out in his boxers anyway. I try not to stare at the perfection that was his upper body, filled with muscles I enjoyed touching. He takes a seat in front of me. Motions at the glass. "May I?"

"Lord Conner, you're so polite." I nod, grinning. "Go ahead. I'm sure I've worn you out."

"You'll never wear me out." He declares, smiling as he drinks. He licks his mouth afterwards and I can't help it. I kiss him. I feel the coldness of the water from his lips.

"You say that now… but give it time. I have a lot of plans for us."

"Do you?" He smiles. Those eyes. Those lashes. It's a wonder nobody else had tried to snatch him (with the exception of Elle of course) off the market after his wife died. "What a coincidence. So do I."

"Really?"

"Mhmm." He pulls me on his lap, nuzzling my neck the way he did earlier. "It was a plan seven or eight years in the making." He tilts his neck, our eyes meet and we're smiling so much I know that if seventeen year old Kathryn came and saw this, she'd roll her eyes and gag. Maybe call seventeen year old Sebastian and have a laugh over it. Laugh away, kiddies.

"Blaine!" I can't believe I almost squealed. I do not squeal. But it's Blaine and he's all tanned and smiling, having just returned from Barbados for what seemed like forever. His eyes light up and then the familiar smirk returns on his face and he kisses my cheek.

"You look wonderful, Kitty-Kate." He drawls and I roll my eyes. "What? The adorable Valmonts have a nickname for you, it's not fair that I don't get to create my own."

"Since you've been gone for a while," I pinch his arm coyly. "I'll let it slip."

"Huh." Blaine replies, smiling. "Is there a reason why you seem so… nice?"

"Kate, his flight's already—" Conner comes up, looking calm and collected as always. I never get tired of how handsome he is, it's like I always find new things to notice about him. Right now, it's his smile. White, blinding. I want to fuck him in front of everybody.

"Conman, you're still around?" Blaine looks at me questioningly. "Where's your blond counterpart?"

We exchange a look, and I wrap my arms around Conner's waist while he kisses my forehead. "Blaine, I don't think you've met my boyfriend yet."

"Oh? Where is he?" Blaine wrinkles his nose. "Don't tell me it's Sebastian's half brother or something."

"In case you missed the gesture earlier…" I lean up and I kiss Conner wetly, enjoying myself at Blaine's stunned silence and the way my boyfriend's tongue was licking my mouth. "Again. Blaine, meet my boyfriend Conner."

**10. Alternate scene in Conner's POV chapter (that'll be chapter 48, folks), wherein they do end up together as well (see I did love the guy even though I killed him!)**

Kathryn kisses my mouth, licking my lip when she pulls away and then she's just staring and smiling with her pink mouth I don't ever want her to leave me but I know she will.

"You know," she says quietly, smiling. "I had such a crush on you when I was little."

I feel a rush of pleasure when she says this. She threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me close. She kisses my forehead.

"Conner," Kathryn says. "I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

She crawls on top of me, resting her cheek against my chest for a few minutes.

"Kate?" I prod, stroking her lower back.

Then she looks up again.

"I'm dating Sebastian," she admits, looking down at my neck. Playing with the skin on my chest.

"I know,"

She looks surprised. "You do?"

"Elle mentioned it,"

"Oh." A lock of hair falls from behind her ears, caressing her cheek. God, she's beautiful. "You and Elle… you see each other often?"

"Not that often,"

"Really?"

"Mhmm." I squeeze her tightly against me, my beautiful Kathryn. "I'm constantly traveling on business, but when I'm here, we make it a point to see each other."

"So you're dating her?"

"Yes."

She frowns, then she does this little pouting thing with her mouth that's just so fucking gorgeous. "Do you date other women when you're traveling?"

"Not really,"

"So… you and Elle…" Her eyes finish the question. "Why though? I mean," she punches me lightly, frowning again. "what do you see in her?"

I think about her question, enjoying the jealous tone in her voice. Elle Fox, the one with the most exquisitely colored eyes. They change colors, you know. I don't know how it happens, but they do. Gray, blue, gray, blue.

"You said you didn't like her, remember?" Kathryn punches me again, having noticed the way my eyes were starting to lose focus from thinking about Elle. "You're such a liar."

"Let's not talk about Elle," I avoid that particular road wisely, choosing to hold her instead. To be right there with her. "Even if she didn't mention it, I still would've known you were dating Seb again."

"How?" She grins teasingly. "Did you hire someone to follow my every move?"

"Because," I gently turn, returning her to the mattress. "I told you, didn't I? You're going to end up with him."

"You're so sure," Kathryn comments. "Why is that?"

"You may have had a crush on me—"

Kathryn looks at our entwined bodies, a corner of her mouth turning up. "I'm pretty sure I still have a crush on you."

"—but you probably love him, and I'm certain that weighs more."

She's quiet for a while, her eyes just staring into mine. She blinks slowly, fingers on my face. "Yes, but that was then. We were children, Conner. Things change, you know."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Imply things like that. We both know where I stand, let's not fuck lives up by changing something like this."

"What do you want me to do?" She scowls, suddenly angry. "Lie to you? Tell you that the only reason why I go here is because you're a good fuck?"

"Really? Because being a good fuck is already doing wonders for my ego, you know."

Her eyes narrow. Uh oh. "Don't turn this into a fucking joke, Conner."

"I'm sorry." I say immediately, meaning it. I kiss her again and again and again until I feel her anger melt away. Her small hands grasp my face. She sighs. Rubs her cheek against mine. "I'll be serious now. Why do you come see me?"

"I don't know, okay?" She shifts, looking at the ceiling. She crosses her arms over her chest. "It's just that when I'm with you, I'm happy."

"Happy." I repeat. "You waited for him for six years. I would think that you're both on cloud nine right now."

"Sometimes we're happy too. But sometimes we fight."

"Relationships are generally like that." I sit up, covering her with the blanket once I notice her shiver.

"We fight because sometimes I'm not really with him, and he can tell. The last time we fought, it was because he found this nearby." She slips out of bed. Takes her purse from the living room. Returns, holding a silver chain with my ring dangling from it.

My mouth dries.

"I always think about you." Kathryn says quietly, sitting on the bed, facing me. "I never stop. I have this with me all the time. I would be severely furious if I lost it."

"It's just a ring, Kate."

"No, it's not just a ring." She replies. "It's you. It's you still wanting me. Even if you're with Elle. I think about how we are together, with or without Sebastian in the picture. You've given me so much and I never even realized it. Tell me, do you like her more than you like me?"

"You know how I feel about you."

"Do you really love me, Conner?"

"Yes."

She looks at the ring. Wears it, even though it's too big for her. Then she looks up. "Then why aren't we together?"

I carefully gauge her words. "Would you like us to be?"

She stares at me. "I keep trying to make sense of things, because there are times when things are great with Sebastian. But like I said, I never stop thinking about you. I think about the six years we had together, the holidays and vacations we've had and the meals we've eaten together. I think about how you'd sleep at my place, and sometimes when I wake up earlier than you, I'd notice how securely you're holding me. Like you're going to fix everything for me, and I know you will."

I stare at her mouth while she talks.

"In fact, you have. You have fixed everything for me." Kathryn brushes her hair back. "It doesn't make sense why we're not together."

"What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying leave Elle. It's over with Sebastian and me. It's been over a long time ago. We just never saw it. I'm saying I want this to be real this time. You were right when you said I was waiting, and maybe I was waiting for Sebastian at some point. But I stopped." She fiddled with the ring. "I stopped waiting for him years ago."

"Come here." I try to pull her back down.

She casts me a smile, barely there, but it registers a million sparks that fries my nerves.

"I'm waiting for you now." She says.

"Me." I repeat dumbly, my mouth half open.

She laughs, kissing me. No idea whatsoever what she's doing to me right now. Her smell her soft mouth her small hands all touching me just me waiting for me and I'm kissing her touching her wanting her wanting to take her and have her always just always because that's what I promised her. Always. And we're just murmuring, caressing, laughing at our intimate jokes, rolling around in bed, time had packed its bags and left.

"Kathryn," I kiss the part where her jaw met her neck.

"Hmm."

"Finally." I just murmur, I don't know if she's going to understand that or not but—

She chuckles, wrapping her arms around me. "Finally, finally, finally." She responds, knowing exactly what I meant. "Lord Conner. My Conner."

Then she just pulls away, her cheeks glowing, her smile radiant.

"My Conner." She says again. Then she blinks, frowns, then smiles again. "My love." She says this slowly, as though realizing it just now.

* * *

Oh, um Ian's wife was off somewhere I had originally planned for her to visit but I figured I was already juggling enough characters. She's an interesting person though. Too bad you guys never met her. Haha. :D

And I know it's over, the curtains are closed, the seats are empty. Boohoo. Will I ever write something as ridiculously long and twisted as this? Don't know. Guess we'll see. It'll be kinda hard to top Elle and Ian as villains, that's for sure. Well, it's been 2 years, for those of you who've been reading this, a million thanks. Even though I might take a breather from ridiculously long and twisted stories with insane sociopath original characters (and yet somewhat likable in their own way), I might write the occasional one-shot or short fic, so I hope you guys still read those.

Thanks again!

-S.


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